


The Lucky One (Bucky x reader)

by avengerofyourheart



Series: The Lucky One (Bucky x reader Movie Fic) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Movie fic, Nicholas Sparks, Sexist behavior, mentions of cheating, mentions of mild abuse, the lucky one movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerofyourheart/pseuds/avengerofyourheart
Summary: **Story line loosely based on the movie “The Lucky One” as part of @hunters-from-stark-tower ‘s Movie Fic Challenge on tumblr**Characters: reader, Bucky (James), reader's mother, Caleb (OC), Kevin Jenkins (OC).Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like my spin on this story! Any feedback is appreciated. :)

"I can't believe you hired a stranger off the street without even consulting me! I mean...he's not even from around here. He's a drifter from who-knows-where and he could be a...a serial killer or something!" you spoke emphatically, not quite a yell but nearly.

"What? You were gone, we need the help, he needs a job. What's there to consult about?" she shrugged innocently.

"Mother. I know you're not as...able as you used to be, but we were doing just fine! I'm perfectly capable of hauling the bales of hay and training the horses and dealing with owners and..."

"...and running yourself into the ground. Honey, you can't do it all by yourself. Not forever. You're stretched too thin. This James fella seems perfectly capable of doing the heavy lifting. I mean look at him throw those bales around with those muscles. And that jaw, yowzah.... If I were 30 years younger..." your mother swooned, craning her neck toward the window.

"Mom!" you laughed. She always was a pistol.

Parting the curtains with one finger, you peered through the window at the man your mother had hired. James. She was right, he lifted those 100-pound hay bales like they were nothing. From the house you could see he was tall and muscular with wide shoulders, longer brown hair peeking out from under a black baseball cap. His face was shadowed, but your mom always did like the handsome ones. Long legs clad in denim and wearing a dark green jacket with a glove on each hand, James finished unloading the truck and hopped from its bed down to the ground in one swift motion.

"If you don't want him here, then fire him yourself. At least meet him, Y/N. I think he'll be a welcome addition to the stables."

Exhaling loudly, you knew she was right. You did need the help and you could at least give him a chance. Grabbing a jacket from a hook by the front door, you slipped it on and stepped out onto the porch. Descending the steps, you made your way across the lawn toward the stables where the pickup truck was parked. James raised the truck's tailgate and slammed it into place, brushing the hay off his clothes.

"James?" you called out as you got closer. He responded to your voice and turned.

Covering the last few feet between you, you were finally able to see his face under the hat. His stormy-grey eyes met yours, rendering you speechless for a second. A 5-o'clock shadow speckling his chiseled jaw, the man nervously chewed on the inside of his lip as you neared.

"Hi. I'm Y/N, owner of (Y/L/N) Stables," you introduced yourself, extending a hand toward the man.

James held your gaze, hesitation in his eyes. After a moment, he removed the glove from his right hand and clasped it around your own. His handshake was firm, but gentle. Letting go, he buried his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he spoke, a huskiness in his voice.

"Please, call me Y/N. So, how did you hear about us?" you asked.

"Um...ad in the paper," he said quietly, lowering his eyes.

You smirked, "My mom still insists on placing that ad once week, no matter what. I keep telling her we need to update it..."

The newspaper ad covered half of a page in the Local section. The photo was of you ten years younger in front of the stables sitting astride Thunder, your favorite horse, with a giant grin on your face.

"No, I...I liked it. Very...effective," he assured you, then clearing his throat.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?" Curiosity got the better of you, hoping not to sound too nosy.

"Change of scenery. I left the, uh...the military recently and wanted to settle somewhere quiet for a while. It's a beautiful area," he commented, casting his gaze out toward the fields and the mountains beyond.

"Well, thank you for your service," you offered gratitude, the gesture met with a short nod. "I'm not sure exactly how my mother described the position, but it's basically grunt work. Tossing bales of hay, mucking out stalls, watering the horses and brushing them down when needed...do you have much experience with horses?"

"Not a lot. I learn quickly, though, and don't mind getting my hands dirty."

"Okay, well the pay's not much..."

"I don't require much. Just grateful for the opportunity," he said, finally meeting your eyes with a close-lipped but sincere smile.

"Alright then. I'll try to have a list of tasks for you each day. Should be close to 9 hours a day with an hour lunch, you'll work every Saturday but Sundays off and another day off during the week of your choosing. Do you have your own transportation?"

"No, but I don't mind walking."

"Oh. How did you get into town?"

"On foot. Hitch hiked a little."

"Wow. Okay, well, uh..."

Your focus was ripped away as a car turned down the long dirt path from the main road, tires kicking up dust in their wake. An exasperated sigh escaped your lips. Looking back toward James, you saw he was turned away, his face hidden.

"I'll go water the horses now..." he muttered, trailing off as he stepped into the stables and out of sight.

Brow furrowed in confusion, you dismissed the thought, arms crossed in defiance as the car approached. The driver jolted the vehicle to a stop, clearly hitting the brakes too hard. A tall, barrel-chested man with close-cropped, dishwater-blond hair and a bristly mustache stepped out of the driver's seat, placing a hat on his head as he rounded the bumper toward you.

"You're late, Kevin," you said accusingly.

"That's Sheriff Jenkins to you, Y/N," he answered cockily, pointing to the gold badge pinned on his chest.

You smirked and had a smart retort ready, but you kept it to yourself as the passenger side door opened and out ran a shock of blond hair attached to a thin but energetic young boy. He was burdened by his heavy backpack, a sketch book and a small duffle which made his running haphazard. You couldn't help but smile.

"Hi, mom!" he cried out as he reached you.

"Hey, sweetie, did you have a good time?" you asked, pulling your son in for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Yeah! I got to ride in the cop car all day and even got to turn on the siren!"

Your eyes widened in surprise, "Did you, now? You went to work with daddy?" You met Kevin's gaze, sending him a poisonous look.

"Yup. And guess what? I'm gonna learn karate!" the boy jumped up in excitement.

"Wow! That's, um...that's new information. Why don't you run inside? I need to talk to your dad. Maybe you can watch a little tv while I get dinner ready, huh?" you offered, ruffling his hair.

"Okay! Bye, dad! Love you!" he yelled, running toward the house.

"Bye, buddy," answered Kevin.

"And no more running!! I can hear you wheezing," you sternly shouted, watching as the boy slowed down to ease his breathing. You then whipped around toward Kevin, venom in your voice. "You took him out on patrol with you? Are you insane? What the hell were you thinking? And karate? You can't be serious."

"It was a quiet day at work, just a drunk pickup and a noise complaint. Don't get your panties in a twist. And the boy's gotta learn to defend himself. He's scrawny, you know the bullies will zero in on him."

"Well, you would know that as a bully yourself, wouldn't you?" you replied, accusation dripping from your words. "He's excited about it so I'll let him try but if he comes back injured or if his asthma kicks in, I swear I'll pull the plug on the whole thing."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, leaning against his patrol car. "I'm sure you'd rather he take up some nancy-boy drawing class. Gotta toughen him up somehow. It's like he got none of my genes. Sometimes I swear he ain't even mine."

Marching forward, you pointed a finger in his face, "Don't you DARE speak a word of that around him. Somehow he actually looks up to you and you ARE his father. You know very well that you were my one and only. Don't I wish I had seen what else was out there sometimes..."

"What, so you could con some other poor sucker into marrying you?"

Nostrils flaring, you exhaled loudly and took a step back.

"Yeah, well, luckily it didn't stick, so..." you retorted, trying to keep your anger in check before you said or did something stupid. Even as you spoke to your ex-husband and the father of your child, you had to keep in mind that he was also the law in this town and had more pull than you'd like to admit.

After a pause from the arguing, Kevin changed the subject, "Hey, did I see someone walk in the barn as I drove up?"

"New employee. Not that it's any of your business."

"Oh, yeah? Some tough guy horse trainer who you can spread your legs for?"

Balking in shock, you both then heard a crash from inside the stables.

"What was that?" questioned your ex.

"One of the horses. Get out of here, Kevin. We are no longer married so what I do and who I involve in my business has nothing to do with you. And any conversation we ever need to have will only involve our son. Besides, you really wanna talk about one of us sleeping around? I know there are quite a few Badge Bunnies who have seen the backseat of that cop car right there, so I wouldn't point fingers, _Sheriff_. Now, get off my property."

Kevin opened the car door with a smirk and climbed in, "Tell Caleb I'll see him Wednesday night for karate."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"Now, don't be like that. We don't wanna have to involve the judge, now do we?" threatened the man.

Paling at the thought, you shook your head, "Fine. Wednesday."

Kevin nodded in triumph and started the car, speeding off in a cloud of dust.

Still bristling from the conversation, you were grateful that Caleb was in the tv room on the far side of the house, unable to hear any of what was just said. Not sure the same could be said for the man in the stables, it occurred to you.

"James?" you called out.

The brunet appeared quickly, clearly not having been far away judging from the bashful look on his face.

"How much did you hear?" you asked, embarrassed.

"Some," he answered quietly.

"It's okay. That's how most of our conversations end up these days: semi-public shouting matches. Sorry about my ex, he's kind of..."

"A dick," he finished, eyes then widening in regret. "I'm sorry, that was rude..."

Instead of being offended, a burst of laughter escaped your lips. "Don't apologize. You're not wrong, in fact I've called him worse."

"Still, it's not my place. I shouldn't have said that," he spoke apologetically.

"No, really. It's okay. You were just being honest. Sadly, it took me five years to be that honest with myself..." you trailed off in thought.

James hesitated, then gathering the courage to ask, "How old is your son?"

You grinned then, "He's seven. Light of my life. And the only part of Kevin I'm happy to have."

He nodded, "Seems like a great kid."

"He is," you agreed, then remembering something. "I heard a noise from inside the stables. Are the horses okay?"

"Oh, uh..." James shifted uncomfortably, "That was me, actually. I kinda...broke something."

Eyebrows raised, you were curious, "You did? What was it?"

The man beckoned you forward and you followed him inside. You could now see one of the 2"x4" boards of the gate to a stall had splintered in half.

"Wow. I didn't realize the wood was that old. Well that, or you have super powers," you added with a laugh.

James joined you in a chuckle after a small delay. "Yeah, don't know my own strength. I'll fix it, I swear. Even off the clock," he promised.

"That'd be great, but on the clock is fine. We have some spare wood in the shed. In fact, there might be a few more things that need fixing, if you're up for it," you offered.

"Sure. No problem."

"Great. Well, I'm gonna go get dinner started. It was nice to meet you, James. You can probably head out for the night. I'll see you in the morning? 8am?"

"I'll see you then," echoed James, handing you the keys to the truck.

You turned around and headed back to the house, pausing on the porch for a moment to see the man's retreating figure as he headed for the main road in the fading evening light. With a smile, you thought perhaps it might not be so bad having him around.

____________________

Part Two will be added soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, reader’s mom, Bucky, (James), OC Kevin Jenkins, OC Caleb, more to come.
> 
> Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> Warnings: mostly fluff, a lil angst. 
> 
> Word Count: 2536

Sunlight peaked over the horizon, slowly creeping across the grassy lawn. Brightness grew behind your eyelids, the light filtering though the gauzy curtains at your bedroom window. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stretched while throwing off the covers that offered to reclaim you. With a knock and a turn of the knob, you entered Caleb's room to see him already awake and sketching in his notebook, bringing a smile to your face. He always was an early riser, but content to stay in his room until you awoke.

Soon you had breakfast on the table and were calling Caleb's name while simultaneously packing your son's lunch. He breezed into the kitchen with his backpack half unzipped, threatening to spill its contents.

"Morning, sweetie. Got all your homework?" you asked, brushing an unruly lock of blond hair off his forehead.

"Yes, mom, but we have a field trip today to the museum!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"That's right! I have your permission slip..." you searched through a stack of papers on your desk just off the kitchen and plucked the correct form out. Closing his lunchbox, you added it and the permission slip to his backpack before zipping it closed.

"Make sure you ask the teacher so you can sit near the front of the bus, okay? Don't want you getting motion sickness." The museum was about an hour away, meaning a long bus ride for the students.

A heavy sigh escaped his small body, "I know, mom."

Breakfast eaten, hair and teeth brushed, and backpack in hand, you hustled your son out the door and into the car to meet the bus. Most mornings, you would walk with him to the bus stop half a mile down the road, but you drove when running late. After dropping your son off, you turned down the lane back toward the house and saw a male figure outside the stables. James. He was early.

Parking the car, you headed his way. As you neared, you observed him measure and mark a long 2"x4" piece of wood you assumed to fix the one he broke yesterday. He had apparently found the shed and pulled out the saw horses, wood, and tools all on his own. Ambitious.

"Good morning, James," you called out, getting his attention.

He turned your way, peaking out from underneath his baseball cap. "Morning, ma'am."

"I told you, it's Y/N, none of this 'ma'am' stuff."

He flushed slightly, "Sorry. Y/N."

You gave a smile. "Glad you found the shed. How long have you been here? You don't have to be in until 8."

"I know," he looked down, adjusting the gloves on his hands, "but I was already awake. Figured I'd get an early start. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," you shrugged. "Um...I'm gonna go get ready for the day and I can show you around a little more. Sound good?"

"Sure," he answered, close-lipped smile on his face.

Turning your back to him, you headed for the house, then looking down at what you were currently wearing: yoga pants, a ratty t-shirt, and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt with your hair pulled back. Basically what you wore to bed the night before. Such a great example of professionalism, you laughed at yourself.

Once inside, you heard noise in the kitchen.

"Morning, mom," you greeted her upon entering.

"Morning, dear," you mother shuffled over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Caleb off to school?"

"Field trip, actually. He's excited about the museum," you replied.

She clicked her tongue in affection, "Such a sweet boy. I'll thank the Lord every day that he doesn't seem to have an ounce of Kevin's cruelty in him. "

"You and me both, mom," you sighed, helping her lower into a chair. Your mother had ridden horses all her life, but took a bad fall after being bucked off about 15 years ago. As she aged, her back yielded less and less to movement causing pain and immobility. It saddened her to see you carrying so much responsibility because she was unable to help. Although you wouldn't admit it quite yet, somehow she knew that having help in James had been a godsend.

The silence in the kitchen was then broken by the staccato striking of a hammer. Peering out the window, you could see that James had removed the damaged stall gate and was nearly finished removing the broken board and replacing it.

"Is that James out there?" you mother inquired. "He's quite the go-getter."

"Seems to be," you replied, distracted as you kept your gaze on the man.

A throat cleared behind you, breaking the spell. You turned around a knowing look and a smirk from your mother as she tried to meet your eyes.

"Well, uh," you avoided the eye contact, unwilling to admit to staring. "I'm gonna hop in the shower. Do you need anything right now, mom?"

"I'm just fine, dear." She sipped her tea with a smile as you retreated from the kitchen and your mother's accusing gaze.

_____________

Dressed in jeans, boots, t-shirt, and a jacket, you brushed your hair back from your face and headed out the door toward the stables once again. Stepping inside, James had his back to you as he finished reattaching the stall gate. He swung the gate back and for a few times before latching it, confident in his repairs. He turned your way, his eyes finding yours. You weren't sure you would ever get used having to those piercing blue eyes fixed on you.

"You did a great job on the gate. Thank you," you complimented him sincerely.

He remained reserved as he spoke, "You're welcome. I'm sorry it needed fixing."

A wide smile crossed your face, "Already forgotten. Ready for the full tour?"

"Yeah. Just let me put away these tools..."

You helped him carry the spare wood and tools back to the shed before dusting your hands off on your jeans.

"So," you began. "I thought I'd introduce you to the horses first."

He nodded at that as you lead him toward the first stall.

"This is Thunder, my baby. I've had him since he was just a colt," Thunder walked toward you, nuzzling the side of your face. You stroked the white spot between his eyes, the rest of his coat a light, copper color. A few affectionate pats to the animals neck and you moved on to the next stall.

You spoke about each of the horses individually, sharing their personalities and quirks like they were members of the family because you saw them as such. Most of the horses were owned by neighbors and friends but you also offered outside short-term and long-term boarding as well as training. At the moment, only 2 of the 9 horses present were brought in during the past 2 weeks and required a lot of attention. Coming to the last stall, you hesitated, gazing at the wild eyes of the chestnut-colored animal before you.

"This is Jasper. He came to us last week for re-training from an out-of-state owner."

You had observed James as the quiet, strong type so far. He had silently followed you from horse to horse, observing and listening as you shared about each animal. Which is why you were surprised when he spoke up then.

"Why is he chained to the walls?" he asked, leaning forward.

"He's a special case. The owner says Jasper was a great horse, very calm and gentle until about a month ago when something spooked him. They couldn't pinpoint what happened and usually a horse will calm down over time, but he still hasn't. He shies away from human contact and jumps at loud noises. Even bucks on occasion, which is why we have him roped to both sides of the stall so no one gets too close or is hurt while feeding him."

James seemed transfixed on the animal, both hands resting on the gate before him.

"Can you help him?" he questioned, meeting your eyes.

"I hope so. The owners want him broken again, but given his age and whatever trauma he suffered, it's really up to him. I don't like to use the term 'broken', anyway. I don't use whips or spurs to cause them pain. Training horses is about mutual understanding and earning their respect. These horses trust me and in return they follow my commands. I hope to do the same with Jasper. His owners have only given me a few months, though...." you trailed off, heart aching for the frightened animal.

James pulled away from the gate, stuffing hands in his pockets as he ducked his head.

"Anyway, I'll show you the horses' feeding and training schedules. It's about time for their breakfast."

He nodded, following your lead as you walked to the far side of the stables while talking non-stop with the silent man beside you.

________________________

That night, Caleb was abuzz with new information he had learned from the American Military Museum. On the bus ride home he had sketched some of his favorite battle scenes as depicted in dioramas and the various uniforms of the military. He showed you his drawings at the dinner table, meanwhile you urged him to clear the table as one of his chores. Flipping through his book, you were stunned at how talented he was at such a young age. Although his art wasn't photographically accurate, he still had his own style that you hoped he would get a chance to develop as he grew older. Unless his father had any say about it. Caleb's curiosity and enthusiasm for World War II in particular sparked a memory.

"Hey kiddo, I think we might have some of your great grandfather's photos from the war up in the attic, would you like to see them?" you teased, know that he would.

He gasped, "Really?!? Can we look at them right now?" The boy was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

"Not tonight, sweetie, it's getting late. But I promise I will find them, okay?" you assured him.

Disappointed but understanding, he sighed, "Okay, mom."

You ruffled his hair as he dried the last of the dinner dishes before heading off to brush his teeth.

"You got lucky with that boy," your mom declared. "You were a little hellion growing up."

A laugh burst through your lips, "Mom! I wasn't that bad..."

"Say what you will, but my memory is still perfect."

Shaking your head with a smile, you helped her rise from the dinner table before she shuffled off to bed. You wiped off the kitchen counter, then settled down at your desk to look over bills and other paperwork you had yet to get to for the week.

____________________

Having James around made your life a lot easier than you expected, not having to deal with some of the menial tasks that had taken up much of your time. The only hiccup in the routine of that week was Wednesday night when Kevin came to pick up Caleb for his first Karate class. Your son had really been looking forward to it, watching out the window for the police car to roll up. When it did, he bolted out the door and was gone with barely a wave to you, your stomach in knots as you watched him go. Even if you knew that karate was not about violence but self-discipline and self-defense instead, you knew Kevin would somehow make it competitive. It was just his nature. Your gaze flitted out toward the road all night as you ate a quiet dinner and then returned to the stables to give each horse a blanket to brave the chilly night. James helped you draped the fabric over each animals' muscular back.

Approaching Jasper, you were unsure what to do. Putting the blanket on him would mean you would be behind his line of sight, which always spooked him. You didn't want him to freeze all night, though.

"Can I help?" James offered, entering the stall cautiously behind you.

He approached the animal, keeping both hands in Jasper's view.

"Be careful! I'm not sure..." you watched in awe as James moved forward slowly, eventually able to place a hand on Jasper's nose without him flinching. Once contact was made, the man stroked the horse's neck while remaining directly in front of him.

"Go ahead," James urged you.

Uncertain, you came to Jasper's side and slid the blanket over his back. His skin shuddered, but otherwise he seemed okay. Backing out of the stall slowly, James followed you.

You turned his way, still in shock, "How did you do that?"

Offering a casual shrug, he spoke, "Mutual understanding."

You were then interrupted by the sound of an approaching car, heart leaping in your throat. Exiting the stables, you saw Caleb climb out of the patrol car with a handkerchief held to his mouth. Dread filled you.

"Baby, what happened?" you questioned the boy, pulling the cloth aside to see a split in his lip.

"I'm okay, mom. It was an accident. Dad says I have to be quick on my feet! He's gonna help me practice this weekend!" he declared with enthusiasm.

Inspecting his face again, you kissed the top of his sweaty head. "Okay. Go ahead and wash up. I'll be right in."

Watching his retreating figure you whirled on your ex. "What the hell, Kevin? I knew something like this would happen!"

"Relax, it's a split lip. Some kid's fist got a little wild. Soon our boy will be able to deflect something like that. It's part of the learning process," Kevin drawled with a condescending tone.

"Oh, right. Like you know anything about karate," you scoffed. "All your fighting skills come from scrapping with your brothers and you know there were no rules involved there."

He shrugged, "Maybe so, but at least I didn't stand there while some kid hit me in slow motion. He didn't even have the sense to hit him back!"

"Caleb doesn't have the violent tendencies you do, thank heavens."

"Yeah, we'll see. I'll see him next week for karate."

"What?" you asked in outrage. "You just said you could practice with him this weekend!"

"I forgot I had a previous engagement," Kevin said unapologetically. "He'll understand."

Hands shaking in anger, you crossed your arms to hide it. "Fine. Next week."

Watching his tail lights retreat, you took a few deep breaths. As the anger faded, you were just tired. Tired of being the one to cover for him as he disappointed his son. You heard the stable doors sliding shut, breaking you from your reverie. James closed the padlock around the chain and handed the keys to you.

"Thank you," you responded, throat still a little thick with emotion.

"He'll be okay," James assured you. "Caleb. You're doing right by him, I don't doubt that."

"I appreciate that. Have a good night, James," you said with a sniffle.

A generous smile touched his lips, this time even reaching his stunning blue eyes.

"Good night, Y/N," he echoed before walking away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, James (Bucky), OC Caleb, OC Marjorie (reader’s mother), mention of OC Kevin Jenkins.
> 
> Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> Warnings: mostly fluff, a lil angst. 
> 
> Word Count: 2554

The rest of the week, James continued to be the perfect employee. He came early to start any repair projects he saw, fed the horses, mucked out the stalls, hauled bales of hay, and did all of it without complaint. Most days you had to remind him to take a lunch break and when to stop at the end of the day. You wondered if he actually even had an off switch. Around noon, when reminded, he would disappear for that hour for the first few days, but by the end of the week he was bringing a lunch of his own and would spend time with the horses. You could tell he was more comfortable around them and that fact made you oddly happy.

One evening after work was done for the day and James had gone home, you were sitting on your porch with your mother beside you. Caleb was laying on a blanket with his sketchbook, perfectly content. As the sun set and darkness fell slowly, you saw a figure walk past on the main road. It was James walking back from town with what looked like at least 5 grocery bags in his left hand and 3 or 4 planks of wood over his right shoulder. Quite the load to carry over such a long distance, although come to think of it, you weren't sure where he was staying since there wasn't much past your stables for miles.

Curiosity got the better of you so the next day, after discussing the training and feeding schedule, you breeched the subject.

"James," he turned your way as you began, "if you, um...if you ever want to borrow the truck one night, you're more than welcome. I saw you walk past last night and that looked like a lot to carry, so..."

"Oh," he uttered, adjusting the brim of his cap. "That's kind of you, thank you."

"Of course. Do you mind if I ask...where are you staying? I mean, for your employee file," you blabbered on awkwardly.

"Um...sure. At a house about a mile South? I'm not sure of the exact address. There's a name on a sign beside the door. Blackhurst, I think."

"Wow. The Blackhurst place? It's been abandoned for years. Didn't think it was livable by now."

He shrugged and offered a small smile, "I got it for cheap, since I was willing to fix it up myself. I don't mind. Keeps me busy."

"Well....I'm glad then," you said, returning the smile and leaving him to his work.

______

As Sunday morning rolled around, you finally had a moment to relax. It was short-lived, though. Caleb nagged you constantly to look for the box of your Grandfather's old military stuff you had promised to show him, so you gave in. Heaving yourself out of a comfortable chair reluctantly, you traipsed up to the basement and rummaged around for 15 minutes before you found it. You hauled the dusty box down the stairs and set it down in the living room, carefully pulling out each item as you explained it to your fascinated son.

The contents of the box were only part of what your grandmother had received after her husband had died. Some was donated to museums over the years or given to his old war buddies. She had kept all his personal items: his dress uniform cap, dog tags, medals, and a few photos scattering the bottom of the box. You gathered them and looked at each one, trying to decipher the handwriting on the back and picking out your grandfather's face in a few.

One photo in particular caught your eye. Flipping it over, the hasty scrawl read "Rescued! 107th regiment, Italy, 1943". You couldn't believe it. You'd heard the stories, but this photo actually proved it. Your grandfather was rescued by Captain America himself. Most of his regiment had been captured behind enemy lines and wasn't expected to survive, but a genetically-enhanced man called Steve Rogers wouldn't take no for an answer and saved the lives of over 400 men. The Star-Spangled man was captured on film, front and center of the group, with your grandfather just behind him and to the right.

Before showing it to Caleb, you saw something. A familiar face. Maybe? The photo was old and faded, the sepia tone a bit grainy, but you could've sworn that face looked a lot like James. You wish your grandfather had written down names because it might have given a clue as to whether the man you knew was related to the one in the photo. Curiosity piqued, you pushed the thought aside for the moment and told your son all about how his great-grandpa knew Captain America in real life. The blond haired boy was ecstatic, positive he would have the coolest item to share at Show & Tell at school the next day.

You then asked your mother, who was resting on the couch, "Mom, do you remember that picture of Grandad and Captain America?"

She pried open one eye and took a short look, "Oh, sure. My father shared stories in his letters to mother during the war. The grand heroics of Captain America and his best friend from home that he was reunited with. What was his name? It was a strange one...Benji? No, Bucky! Yes. That's it. Daddy was so proud to be a part of it all..." she trailed off, sad smile upon her face as she closed her eyes again.

You didn't pursue it further for fear of upsetting her, so you let it go and moved on to other pictures and stories.

_____________

As another busy week began on Monday, the photo was temporarily forgotten. Business was booming and it all went along so much more smoothly now. You were once again grateful to finally have some help. James continued to be a godsend, never hesitating to lend a hand. You had offered him a day off that second week, but he claimed he didn't know what to do with himself for a whole day so he worked anyway. As Saturday rolled around, the workload wasn't as heavy so you told him to take off as early as he wanted. Since you had offered, he borrowed the truck for a little while to run an errand.

You spent the afternoon with your son, making up for the fact that his winner of a father had failed to keep his promise to practice after his karate lessons for the second time. As a means of distracting Caleb that night, you were preparing the boy's favorite dinner and even letting him help with the cooking a little. You were dancing around the kitchen to the meal-appropriate music, causing Caleb to giggle madly at your antics when you spotted movement in the hallway.

James sheepishly ducked his head in and spoke softly, "Sorry, I tried to knock, but the music....I was just returning the truck keys. I apologize for intruding." He placed the keys on the entry table and made to leave, when you spoke.

"Wait, James!" He halted and turned your way. "I promise, you're not intruding. Come in. Please."

He took a few hesitant steps into the kitchen and looked around, uncertainty upon his face.

You came to stand behind your son, hands on his shoulders. "Caleb, this is James. He's helping out in the stables. James, this is my son, Caleb."

Caleb stepped forward without hesitation, sticking his right hand out toward the man. "Hi, James. It's nice to meet you, sir."

The brunet's eyes grew wide. You could have almost sworn it was fear he was experiencing upon being approached by a slight 7-year-old. He blinked repeatedly and then recovered, taking a deep breath as he accepted the small boy's hand and gave it a gentle shake.

"Nice to meet you, too, Caleb," he answered with a small smile.

"Do you like enchiladas?" the spunky blond asked point-blank.

"Um...I don't know. I don't think I've ever had an enchilada," James responded quizzically, even struggling with the dish's pronunciation.

"What?" Caleb seemed appalled at the thought. "You have to stay for dinner and have some! My mom is a great cook. She let me help, too!"

Finding yourself on the spot, you froze, two sets of eyes now upon you.

"That's okay," James spoke first. "You have your family dinner, I don't want to impose."

"No, no!" you finally responded. "Not at all. You're more than welcome to stay for dinner. Please do."

Tugging at the left sleeve of his jacket, glove still upon each hand, he considered the offer before giving you a nod. "Okay. That's very kind of you."

20 minutes later, you were seated across from James at the table with Caleb to your right and your mother at your left. You served the dinner Family Style, passing each dish around the table so each person could take their own portion. James had removed his jacket but kept on a hooded sweatshirt over a long-sleeved Henley. He took off his baseball cap to be polite, chestnut locks tucked behind his ears. The man was trying not to draw too much attention to the fact that he still had one glove on, keeping his left hand under the table most of the meal.

Your mother was even more taken with James at this point, introducing herself this time as Marjorie, "But you can call me Maggie," she added with a wink. He flushed at her attention, causing you to swat her arm and give her The Look. The stop-flirting-with-the-employee-half-your-age look. Your mother simply shrugged and carried on. Typical.

Caleb mostly dominated the conversation, chattering on about school and karate with you and your mother interjecting at times. James listened and ate, seemingly enjoying this 'new' dish he had oddly never experienced, common as it was. You asked Caleb about the project he was drawing at the moment, the subject bringing James' gaze up from his plate.

"I'm almost finished drawing the soldiers' uniforms but I can't get their hands right. Hands are hard," he declared with a small pout.

James finally spoke up then, "I hear you're a great artist. I'd love to see your drawings sometime." He smiled at the boy with genuine interest as you watched their exchange.

"Really?" Caleb perked up, face beaming up at the man. "Can I show him, mom? I'm finished eating!"

You eyed his almost-but-not-quite-empty plate. "Two more bites of vegetable."

Your son then shoveled the two bites into his mouth one after the other before darting from the table, to your surprise.

"Hey! Chew with your mouth closed, mister!" you called out after him, then letting out a chuckle. "Sorry. He's excited. I try to encourage his artistic talent, but I'm just his mom. He doesn't believe me when I say it's good. His father on the other hand..." you trailed off with a disapproving look.

Caleb returned then with an armful of notebooks and loose sheets of paper. 

"That's a lot, sweetie. Maybe just pick a few to show James. We don't want to take up his whole evening..."

"No, I don't mind," James responding, then wiping his mouth on a napkin and rising from his chair. "Can I help you with dishes?" he offered.

"Oh, no," you replied. "You're our guest. Caleb, why don't you show James your drawings in the living room. I'll finish up here."

James did follow the boy, but only after clearing his place and putting dirty dishes in the sink. He insisted. As you loaded the dishwasher and wiped the table, you could hear the inaudible back and forth of conversation between your son's high-pitched chatter and the low baritone of a man's voice. Not something you had heard at home in a long time.

You eavesdropped for a short moment from around the corner, able to hear their conversation.

"Why do you wear a glove all the time, James?" Caleb's inquisitive voice carrying to the next room.

James cleared his throat and you almost interrupted, thinking the question might be too personal, but he then answered, "Um...I was injured in the war. I don't want to scare anyone, so I wear my glove." Simple, yet honest.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not right now, no."

A beat of silence, then a response. "Okay. I'm sorry you were injured."

"Thanks, pal," you heard James say quietly as you stepped away.

After about an hour, you wandered into the living room, declaring that it was bedtime.

"Aww, mom! But I'm not tired!" he resisted, trying in vain to stifle a yawn as he and James stood up from the floor.

"Uh huh. That's what I thought. Say goodnight to James and thank him for his time."

Caleb launched himself at the man, wrapping his skinny arms around his waist. James froze for a moment, then patting the boy on the back with his right hand.

"Thanks for telling me stories, James. I'm glad you stayed for dinner."

"Me, too, buddy. Thanks for showing me your drawings," he replied with a smile.

"Good night, James," he said with another yawn as he walked out of the room.

"Brush your teeth, kiddo. I'll be there in a minute," you said, then turning to James as he donned his jacket and hat he had left on the couch. Noticing a small black notebook he'd left behind, he quickly grabbed it and returned it to a coat pocket.

"Are you an artist as well?" you inquired, nodding toward the notebook.

"I, uh...no. I write things down. Sometimes. Things I remember," he vaguely explained, so you left it alone.

Reaching the front door, you opened it for him. He stepped out onto the porch and then turned toward you.

"Thank you for dinner, Y/N. It was delicious," he complimented.

"You're welcome. James..." you paused a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

He seemed to stiffen slightly, but then nodded.

"Did you have a family member serve in the second World War? Grandfather maybe?"

He blinked a few times, then stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Um...why do you ask?"

"Oh. Well, we were going through my grandad's old war photos and I could swear there was a man who looked just like you. It's not a really clear picture, but..."

James exhaled and shrugged, looking away, "I don't know. I mean...it's possible. I don't know much about my family. They've been gone for a while."

Feeling a tug at your heart, you felt badly for bringing it up. "I'm sorry."

He put on a brave smile, meeting your eyes. "It happens. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," you replied, offering a smile in return. You watched his figure retreat into the dark and then closed the door behind you. It was only after he was gone that you realized tomorrow was Sunday and his day off. Would he actually show up and refuse a day free from work again? You couldn't allow that. There were labor laws, after all. And yet...part of you hoped to see him sooner than Monday. Knowing him only a few weeks, the man was still a mystery, but each clue given had you aching for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww! James staying for dinner and bonding with little Caleb. Marjorie is quite the spitfire, huh? ;) She's fun. Those photos though! Hmmm. Intrigue... Any thoughts, comments or theories are appreciated! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Marjorie (reader’s mom), Bucky (James), OC Kevin Jenkins, OC Caleb, mention of a certain other Avenger.
> 
> Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> Warnings: a little angst, SO MUCH FLUFF, ex being a jerk. Super light violence? Maybe? Tiny cliffhanger. 
> 
> Word Count: 3.7k (this one got away from me, but you’ll see why :D )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I royally screwed up and uploaded the wrong part late last night blame my sleep-deprived idiocy. :) If you read it, I'm sorry for the spoilers but I've deleted it now and will try to update more frequently so it's in sync with tumblr and Wattpad. But on that note, I have all the parts up the 8 on there, if you're curious! Same username. It's just a lot to keep up with 3 websites sometimes. Whew. 
> 
> But here it is, finally! I really hope you enjoy it. :)

The morning sun rose crisp and clear on Sunday, your ears tuned to any outdoor noises. Unexpected disappointment creeped into your mind to find silence. You had become accustomed to the early sounds of James sawing, hammering, or tossing bales of hay onto the ground outside the stables this early. You weren't really surprised, given that it was Sunday, but the promised words of " _See you in the morning_ " echoed in your mind from last night.

Shaking off this odd feeling, you climbed out of bed and pulled on a cozy sweater before descending the stairs toward the kitchen. Soon you had pancakes on the griddle and all the other breakfast fixin's on the table. The delicious smells roused the rest of the house, soon hearing your mother's shuffling feet along with the frantic scamper of your energetic boy approaching.

After breakfast, you all dressed for church and headed out the door. You weren't particularly religious, but your mother attended every week and couldn't get around on her own very well, so you and Caleb tagged along. An hour-long service was all your mother's poor back could handle, what with the sitting on those hard pews and all the getting up and down constantly. Stepping outside the church, you lingered with Caleb as your mother thanked the pastor and chatted with the ladies she played Poker with. Any other aging mother would be playing Bridge, but not yours. She needed the thrill of taking the whole Jackpot, even if no actual money was exchanged.

You waved at a few friends as you pulled your sweater tighter around you. The dress you wore was one of your favorites, but it wasn't particularly warm. Caleb had settled on the steps with the small sketchbook he brought almost everywhere. Glancing down, you noticed that he seemed to be sketching the storefronts across from the church. He then looked up and pointed, drawing your attention, "Mama, look! It's James! Can I go say hi?"

Following his gaze, you saw that it was indeed the long-haired brunet. He was exiting the hardware store with a few bags in each hand. Shielding your eyes from the Autumn sun, you could see he wore his usual baseball cap, jacket, and gloves. You saw him looking around briefly, then he did a double take and paused upon spotting you. Caleb waved enthusiastically, standing from his crouched position while you hesitantly raised a hand in greeting. "You'll see him tomorrow, honey. Let's not bother him on his day off, mmkay?"

The blond-haired boy exhaled in disappointment, "Okay."

James had transferred all his bags to his left hand and raised his right in response with a smile. He then looked away and continued on down the street. Turning back toward the open church doors, your mother was finally approaching, ready to leave.

________

The repetitive sounds of hammering woke you on Monday, bringing a smile to your face. Another morning began with a quick breakfast, forgotten homework, and a mad rush to meet the school bus before you returned home and visited the stables. A ladder rested against the outside wall while sounds were heard up on the roof. Glancing inside, you could see that all the horses had water and food already so you passed by each stall, saying hello to every horse and nuzzling their soft noses. Jasper snorted and stamped his hooves at your approach, a frown tugging at your mouth with worry.

The sounds above were muffled from inside and you suspected James was hitting softly so as to not spook the horses. So considerate. Walking back outside, you rounded the corner toward the ladder and climbed up. You stood on a rung only about 8 feet off the ground with the roof visible. At the top you saw James on his hands and knees replacing shingles.

Waiting for him to pause in hammering, you finally spoke, "Good morning, James."

He turned your way with a smile, "Good morning, Y/N."

"Today's project, I see?" you asked, gesturing toward the work he had already accomplished.

He shrugged, "I saw a few places where it was rotting through. Seemed like a Monday project."

You grinned in approval. "It was nice to see you in town yesterday. Did you have a restful Sunday?"

Sitting back on his heels, he adjusted the bill of his cap. "As restful as I get. Worked on the house mostly."

"Hence the hardware store, I suppose."

He just nodded, giving you a warm, but conservative smile. He was a bit more liberal with those lately and you were definitely a fan, bringing out a grin of your own.

"Well," you glanced around, "I'll leave you to it, then. I'll be back out with the training schedules in a while."

"Sounds good," he responded, lifting his hammer again to strike.

Climbing down, you headed for the house and stepped onto the porch, then looking back for a different view of James. Even from a distance, you could see that he filled out those jeans rather nicely in the back. You flushed and chastised yourself with a shake of the head before stepping inside.

________

Monday and Tuesday passed by as scheduled, both days busy and productive. Wednesday disrupted the flow, but in a mostly positive way. Caleb attended school in the morning, but a field trip in the afternoon involved visiting a local wheat farm, which of course your son was allergic to, so you picked him up and brought him home around noon. You were preparing some lunch while your mother rested, seeing Caleb on the grass out front from the kitchen window. He was trying desperately to practice his karate moves before lessons that night but was having trouble on his own and you were no help. You cursed Kevin once again for never being the father Caleb deserved.

Unexpected warm weather brought an Indian Summer, prompting you to open all the windows for fresh air. Across the lawn, you spotted James walking out of the barn and taking a seat on the tailgate of your pickup truck. He had just unloaded about 20 bags of oats and horse feed in no time, now taking a break for lunch. He didn't need reminding now to stop midday for a meal, which you were glad about. He deserved a break.

Pulling items from the fridge, you busied yourself preparing the meal. Returning to the sink to wash your hands, you glanced out the window and was surprised to see that James was approaching the house. He paused, talking to Caleb who had collapsed on the grass in defeat. Reaching for a towel, you observed James walk closer to the boy, who stood at the man's approach. James reached Caleb, then facing him and widening his stance with his fists raised close to his face. You watched, heart in your throat, as the muscled man gently instructed your son on his foot placement and what looked like a way to block a punch.

You couldn't believe your eyes. This hard-working, kind, handsome, near-stranger volunteered to spend time with your son on his down time, when his own father couldn't even bother. Lunch was ready, but you didn't want to break the spell so you tackled a few dirty pots and pans left over from last night's dinner that you'd left soaking. Once the sink was filled with soapy water, you dipped your hands in and started to scrub.

Another glance out the window, you saw that James had removed his jacket, sweater, and baseball cap leaving him in a long-sleeved Henley and his ever-present gloves. He knelt down to meet Caleb's eye level and raised his fists, gesturing for the boy to do the same. In slow motion, the man demonstrated the correct movement for a solid punch, putting his weight into it, and then inversely taught him how to block it.

You felt a flutter in your chest, seeing for the first time an unrestrained smile on James' handsome face, his white teeth gleaming in the sun. Utterly captivated, you grinned with your hands still moving under the soapy water.

Caleb successfully blocked one of James' very soft punches, jumping around in triumph as he aimed to high-five the man, then completely missing his hand. James barked out a loud laugh, throwing his head back, while Caleb's higher giggles drifted through the open window to you. Quite possibly the most beautiful sounds you'd ever heard, your heart swelled at their joyous interaction. A wide smile reached your lips as your own happiness bubbled up in that moment.

"Well, that pot's as clean as it'll ever be," you heard a voice speak behind you.

Startled, you dropped the pot in the water and stepped back as water sloshed onto the floor. You whirled around to see your mother leaning against the kitchen's entrance with a knowing smile on her face. Pulling the sink plug, you drained the water and rinsed the pot as you spoke.

"I was, uh...um...lunch is ready. Have a seat, I'll go call Caleb in," you stated, attempting to keep your voice casual.

"Uh huh," you mother responded with a smirk.

Drying your hands, you walked through the entryway and stepped out onto the porch, seeing the two still gently sparring.

"There you go! See? You're getting it!" James complimented the boy with enthusiasm.

He had his hands up to block when he finally noticed you on the porch, relaxing his stance with a smile. In that moment, Caleb's punch swung wild, making contact with the edge of James' jaw. The man threw his head back in surprise, not pain, but he exaggerated the momentum and let himself fall to his back on the grass.

Your hand flew to your mouth, rushing forward. Fairly certain he wasn't hurt, you still wanted to be sure.

"James! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hit you, please don't be mad," Caleb scampered to his side in worry.

The man let out a laugh, rubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw as he rose to his feet. "You pack a mean punch, buddy, but I promise I'm okay. And I'm not mad. That was an honest hit, I let down my guard so it's my fault. I'm more worried about your fist, though. I can be pretty hard-headed."

Caleb looked down at his hand, "I think it's okay."

Finally reaching the pair, you gathered the boy's hand in yours, seeing there was barely a mark on his knuckles. A little redness, but that could very well be a beard burn from James' stubble. You kissed it and pulled him into a quick hug.

"Alright, I think that's enough excitement for today," you declared. Caleb whined, but you insisted. "I know, I know, but it's lunch time anyway so go wash up. And brush the grass out of your hair before you get inside," you hollered the last sentence as your son rushed toward the house. "Hey! What do you say to James?"

The boy whirled back around and ran toward the man, gripping him in a hug around the waist. "Thank you for teaching me, James!"

"You're welcome, pal," James responded with a grin, less startled by the hug this time.

Watching your son enter the house, you turned back toward James. "Thank you for that. Really. It means the world to him that you would take the time," you told him sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, honestly," the brunet replied. "He's a great kid. He, uh...he actually reminds me a lot of a friend of mine growing up. Always one of the smaller kids with struggling health, he still managed to be the toughest guy I know. Constantly getting into fights, but only for noble reasons, I finally taught him a thing or two about self defense. I don't know anything about karate, but maybe some of this will help Caleb out." He smiled, eyes unfocused as his mind traveled back through memories.

Still in awe of his generosity and the fact that he just spoke more at once than he had the entire time you'd known him, you quietly observed him for a moment before speaking. "What was his name?"

"Steve," James said at a whisper almost, avoiding your gaze.

You sensed it was a sensitive subject, so you let the moment pass in silence. Out of curiosity, you then took a step toward him, lightly gripping his prickly chin and turning his face to the side.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" you asked, looking for a mark from his unexpected strike from a small fist.

You brushed your thumb over the area and saw nothing, caught unaware when he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Instinctively, your palm cupped his cheek with a gentle caress. The moment was gone as quickly as it came, though, as he shot his eyes open, quickly taking a step back. Burying hands in his jeans pockets, he avoided your gaze. You crossed your arms over your chest, still feeling the remnants of a spark that flowed between you.

He cleared his throat, "I, uh...I actually came up here to ask you something."

"Okay. Ask away," you encouraged him.

He steeled his nerves with a deep breath. "I've been spending a fair amount of time with the horses...even reading up on certain subjects on my down time. Training, behavioral patterns, psychology, all of that."

"Wow. That's amazing," you replied, then letting him continue.

"So, I was thinking...I've built up quite a bit of trust with Jasper and I was hoping I could maybe take him on a walk with a lead rope? Get him away from the stables? Just for a short time and within the fence. He's been cooped up so long, I bet he'd love to stretch his legs a little." You started to protest, but he stopped you. "I know, I know. It's a risk. But I promise it'll be fine. And should anything happen to myself as a result, I take full responsibility. I think I can handle him, though."

You were silent a moment, considering his proposal before responding. "You're sure about this? You're confident that he trusts you and you won't endanger yourself?"

"Yes. I'm positive," he assured you, hope shining in his greyish-blue eyes.

Another beat of silence, then you nodded. "Okay. I trust you."

A bright smile split across his handsome face, causing that flutter in your chest to reappear.

"But," you interjected, "I'd like to supervise, from a distance. And it has to be after regular training hours, so later this evening when all the other horses are in for the night. Deal?"

"Yes! Absolutely. Thank you, Y/N" he smiled.

"Okay then."

"Okay," he echoed, a look of glee upon his face. "Well, I guess my lunch time is over. Better get back to it."

You gave a nod, shooting him a smile. "I'll be back to training after lunch."

"Sounds good," James replied, gathering his jackets and hat before heading for the stables.

You watched him go for a moment and then climbed the steps into the house.

_________

That evening, you stood outside the fence of the paddock, eyes wide in wonderment. You couldn't believe that James had been able to slip the reins over Jasper's head and was now leading the horse around the perimeter of the fence. They'd been at it for almost an hour and by now James had gotten the thoroughbred animal up to a gallop, the man running alongside. No saddle was attempted yet, riding too much of a risk at this point.

As the day's last light faded, you gave the man a wave, indicating to bring the horse back in for the night. He followed your instructions and walked Jasper back into the stables through the side entrance. You walked around the long way toward the main doors.

A few hours earlier, you had sent Caleb off with his father to yet another karate lesson. Your stomach clenched each time you thought about it, especially with his returning with a split lip a few weeks previous. Kevin still insisted Caleb needed this, but you let your son know that he didn't have to go if he didn't want to. The blond boy assured you it was fun, but you knew at least part of him was doing it solely to please his father.

Huffing a frustrated sigh as those thoughts whirled in your head, you entered the barn to see that James already had removed the reins and was brushing Jasper's chestnut coat until it gleamed. Still keeping your distance, you watched the man as the animal seemed to be completely at ease. James had removed his hat and hooked it on one of the posts, leaving the stall door open. You could hear him talk to the horse at a low tone as he brushed.

With a quiet voice, you gained his attention, "Wow. That was...incredible. You have the touch, James."

He turned toward you with a grin, "It felt good. Thank you for trusting me."

"You've earned it. I still don't know how you did it. And what were you saying to him a moment ago?" you asked in curiosity.

"Come here," James beckoned to you with a gloved hand.

You stepped forward cautiously, entering the stall. James offered his hand and you took it as he led you to Jasper's side.

"I like to talk to him about random things sometimes, but mostly I tell him what I'm doing. You know, 'I'm going to put the reins on now, it won't hurt' or 'I'll be brushing your neck first and then down to your legs'. Stuff like that. Could be just my tone of voice but I like to think that he understands me. Here," he gestured, placing your hand on Jasper's neck while placing his hand on top of yours. "I think he's just scared sometimes. Even more-so in a new place, he needs reassurance."

James offered you the brush and you took over, running your hand across the smooth yet coarse hair of the animal's neck.

"Also, I noticed something when I was brushing him yesterday. Right here by his leg..." he took your hand again, placing it just in front of the horses' right rear leg. You could feel a slight lump there, taking care not to press too hard.

"Ouch," you spoke softly in sympathy. "If he's in pain, then that explains a lot of his behavior. I'll have the vet come out tomorrow and check it out. Hopefully Jasper will cooperate with you there, too." You stepped out of the stall and James followed, closing the stall door. "Thank you. For caring and for paying attention to his pain...for doing what I couldn't." You spoke sincerely, placing a hand on James' arm and letting it rest there.

He gave a bashful smile,"No, thank you. For trusting me with these animals and showing me how to care for them. It's an incredible new experience."

You let your hand brush down his arm to let go, but James clasped your fingers lightly instead. Meeting his eyes, you tightened your grip and stepped toward him. His gaze flickered to your lips, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine as he closed the distance between you. Placing his right hand to side of your neck, he licked his lips and leaned forward. You met him halfway, pressing your mouth to his lightly at first but the spark quickly caught fire, heat consuming you both. Releasing his hand, you looped your arms around his neck, bodies fused together in passion. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, testing the waters with the floodgates then opening as you allowed him entrance. His strong arms against your back held you tightly to him, your hands grasping at the roots of his long brunet strands.

Lost in each other, you nearly missed the sound of tires on gravel as a car approached. Breaking apart reluctantly, your chest heaved against his, foreheads touching. You took a step back, slowly releasing his hand as you backed away toward the door without breaking eye contact.

"Um...I have to, uh..." you gestured behind you as a car came to a stop. He nodded, running a hand through his hair.

You whirled around and left the stables to see Kevin and Caleb exiting the patrol car. Your son's shoulders were slumped with his head down as he walked toward the house.

"Hey, kiddo. How was practice?" you asked, hoping to sound optimistic.

"Fine," he answered flatly without even turning.

Frowning, you let him go before turning to your ex-husband. "What happened, Kevin?"

"What makes you think something happened?" the burly man asked defensively. "Okay, so maybe one of the kids noticed Caleb blocking a few of his hits for once and got upset...might've given him a shove. He fell a few times."

"What? Kevin! This is what I'm talking about! I'm not against Caleb learning to defend himself, but kids can get mean and I don't want him being singled out because he's small. I really think he should stop..."

"Well, that's really not up to you. Don't forget, I could call a judge and get custody in a week. You're lucky I don't cause I'm nice," he sneered.

Fuming, you held your tongue once again. Losing Caleb was your greatest fear and you just couldn't let that happen.

"Fine," you curtly replied. "Can you just make sure he's paired up with someone closer to his size next week? Please?"

Smiling at your complacency, he shrugged, "I guess. I'll talk to the teacher, or whatever he's called."

"Thank you," you felt ill, thanking this man, but it's what he wanted to hear. "We'll see you on Saturday, then, right?"

Perplexed, he furrowed his brow, "For what?"

"Kevin!" you exclaimed, almost losing your cool again. "It's his birthday! Please, just be there, okay? He wants you there."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there," he muttered, climbing into his car. As his tail lights disappeared, you tried to release the tension your body held.

You felt a hand against the small of your back and turned to see James beside you. Even the sight of him made you feel better.

"What does he have on you?" he asked quietly.

"What?" you questioned in shock.

"It's the only explanation. You're a strong, independent, successful business owner and an incredible mom to Caleb. The only reason that asshat would think he'd have a leg to stand on in court was if he was holding something over your head." He said it so matter-of-factly.

You were stunned, but sighed in surrender. "He is."

________________

_Part 5 coming soon....._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee!!! Finally, right?? I'm super excited about this part. James and Caleb sparring about makes my heart melt and then Jasper getting comfortable with James? So sweet. A little heat in there too! And that moment of intrigue about why she bends to Kevin's will? Hmm. More will be explained in the next part! I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments! Thank you for reading!!! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, James (Bucky), Caleb (oc), Margaret (oc), Kevin (oc)
> 
> Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> Warnings: Bit of angst, plenty of fluff, mentions of drinking, mentions of cheating, Kevin being a jerk-face. 
> 
> Word Count: 4.5K

_Previously:_

_As Kevin's tail lights disappeared, you tried to release the tension your body held._

_You felt a hand against the small of your back and turned to see James beside you. Even the sight of him made you feel better._

_"What does he have on you?" he asked quietly._

_"What?" you questioned in shock._

_"It's the only explanation. You're a strong, independent, successful business owner and an incredible mom to Caleb. The only reason that asshat would think he'd have a leg to stand on in court was if he was holding something over your head." He said it so matter-of-factly._

_You were stunned, but sighed in surrender. "He is."_

____________

Leading James by the hand, you walked him into the stables and closed the doors. He settled beside you on a blanket-covered bale of hay and waited patiently.

Taking a deep breath and lacing his fingers with your own, you began.

"Kevin and I...we started dating in high school. He was one of the popular kids and when he took an interest in me, I was flattered. I knew he was a bit of a bully but he claimed it was all in good fun and he toned it down around me. After being together a few months, I heard rumors that he was flirting with other girls, but I figured they were just jealous. I thought I was in love and what we had was special. Stupid, right?" you laughed with a sniffle.

James rubbed a gloved hand across your back in comfort, waiting.

"Near the end of our Senior year, I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified. Of course I wanted to marry and have kids eventually, but after college. This was...a shock. I told Kevin and he sort of retreated from me...said he needed some time to think. Despite what he says now, he knows he was the only one I had been with. The baby was definitely his, but it seemed it might not be what he wanted. So I started believing I would have to do this on my own, and you know, my mom was supportive. It's never the dream to have your teenage daughter get pregnant in high school, but she loves me and said she'd be there no matter what."

Taking a deep breath, you finally looked over at James who was taking in your every word, concern etched in his handsome face. He gave you a small smile, nodding for you to continue when ready.

You smiled back, squeezing his hand. "A few days after telling him, Kevin came to me and proposed out of nowhere. He even had a ring. Looking back, I now realize it was his parents who pushed him to 'do the proper thing' and marry me. I just thought we were going to be a family and that we could be happy together. And we were for a little while, I think. We married the Summer after graduation and Caleb was born that Fall. I was so in love with the little guy. He was born a little premature, though, and had a few health problems early on. Kevin had gone through training and became a Sheriff's deputy, so he had a steady job. I couldn't work with Caleb so sick and at the doctor's often. I helped out here at the stables when I could, though."

Letting your eyes close, your mind flitted through the memories, feeling the pain of it. "Kevin started to spend less time at home, claiming he had to work later because we needed the money. Even though Caleb's health did improve after figuring out his allergies and asthma treatments, medical bills were piling up. We were both stressed and I didn't know how to talk about it or how to reach him. Those last few years of our marriage were the hardest of my life. It all shattered when I found out he had been cheating on me. I overheard some talk at the grocery store and it all suddenly made sense."

You felt James stiffen beside you. Glancing his way, you saw he was clenching his jaw with nostrils flared. Lifting a hand to his cheek, you stroked it, stubble tickling your palm. He relaxed into your touch and took a deep breath, nodding. With a sad smile, you continued.

"I confronted him that night and he denied it at first, but finally confessed. He said he couldn't handle the stress and that we were too young to get married. He said he loved Caleb but didn't know how to handle such a fragile child. He had hoped for a 'strapping young boy' that he could play ball with and 'teach to wrestle'," you said, mocking your ex's macho tone in air quotes. "He said he was afraid to touch him sometimes. I was shocked that he felt that way, but it all made sense. I asked for a divorce and he didn't fight me on it. He agreed to child support, but I said no to alimony. I didn't want his money for me, but Caleb deserved to be taken care of. We moved back home for my mom's help with Caleb and to help her with the stables. We've been here ever since."

Hard as it was to share the dissolve of your marriage, this next part was even more difficult. You stood then, suddenly restless, while James remained seated and watched you pace back and forth.

"After the initial shock and despair of my marriage ending, I was actually...relieved. I realized that we hadn't been happy for a long time, if ever, and the cheating just helped me to see it. Mom was there to help with Caleb and I finally was able to breathe a little. I had been a wife and the mother of a sick child since the age of 18. I never had time for myself before and now I could have it. Mom suggested that I get out of the house, so once or twice a month I would go out with the girls on the weekend. I did some things I'm not proud of...drinking, smoking, getting involved with men sometimes. These were the things that people my age were doing in college, but I just never had that chance. Anyway, one of the men I met turned out to be a friend of Kevin's and I didn't know it. He told Kevin and apparently he had some...evidence...of our time together. Photos I don't remember being taken, maybe a video..."

Feeling the tears stream down your face, you were suddenly enveloped in James' strong arms. He pulled you into his chest, hand stroking your back. He let you cry for some time, your tears leaving a damp spot on his shirt. Finally composing yourself, you pulled back with a sniffle and met his eyes.

"I've never seen it, but Kevin claims he has that evidence and that it could ruin my reputation...maybe sway a judge to give him full custody of Caleb. I mean, this is a small town, I could even lose the stables. He's been hanging that over my head ever since to keep me in line. I hate it. I hate HIM...but I'm not willing to risk losing my son."

James took a deep breath, processing all you had told him. "I don't blame you. And you shouldn't blame yourself either," he spoke softly, placing one finger under your chin and raising your head to meet his eyes.

You held his gaze, finding nothing but sincerity and affection there, no judgement. You leaned in close again, gently capturing his lips with yours. This kiss was tender and sweet, your mouths moving in slow caresses. Finally, you came up for air but the closeness remained, your forehead resting against his.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"For what?"

"For listening. For not judging me or trying to fix things. For helping me believe that good men still exist," you replied with a grateful smile.

James pulled away until he gripped your fingers again, his gaze downcast. "Y/N...I'll be honest. I'm a bit nervous about...this," he said, nodding at your joined hands, but then further explaining himself in a hurry. "I do want to! I do. I just, uh...it's been a long time since...um...I haven't had much time to think about what I want in so long. It was always the next mission...orders to follow. It might take me some time to..."

"James," you gently interrupted his nervous rant, raising a hand to caress his stubbled cheek, "it's okay. We'll figure it out together," you assured him with a nod.

He smiled at that, broad shoulders relaxing. "Okay."

You pulled him toward you once again, but you were interrupted by the squeak of the front screen door followed by the hollering voice of your son.

"MO-O-OM. CAN I HAVE A COOKIE?" he called out from the porch blindly. Luckily, you and James were still hidden from view in the stables.

"I'll be right there!" you hollered back, smiling at the man before you with a shake of your head.

He chuckled lightly, taking a step back. You held his hand as long as possible, pulling him forward while you slowly walked toward the stables' entrance without breaking eye contact.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked in anticipation.

"I'll be here," he assured you with a smile, reluctantly releasing your fingers.

You made the walk up to the house, attempting to smooth down your hair and also wipe away any evidence of your tears. Reaching the porch, you turned and watched as James exited the stables wearing his usual jacket and baseball cap. He raised a hand in goodbye and you did the same before he headed for the main road.

Brushing fingers over your swollen lips, you smiled at the night's developments. This was all new and scary and exciting. And yet, you couldn't wait to see how it would all unfold, you thought, before entering the house and locking up for the night.

_________________

Morning broke and Thursday began as normal. However, for once, you were actually able to walk Caleb to the bus stop instead of driving in a hurry. For reasons you very well knew, you had awoken early with a smile on your face, excited to start the day. Walking back from the main road, you spotted the open stable doors and stepped inside.

James had his back to you, gently stroking the nose of your own horse, Thunder, as he spoke quietly to the animal. The sound of your footsteps turned his head, a wide brilliant smile spreading across his handsome face at the sight of you.

"Good morning, Y/N," he said approaching sheepishly, hands tucked in his pockets.

"Morning, James," you replied with a grin, closing the distance between you.

He gripped the bill of his cap to remove it before leaning in for a soft, lingering kiss. You both pulled away slightly, goofy smiles on your faces as he replaced his cap.

"Good morning, indeed," you said in response, causing James to chuckle.

"How'd you sleep?" he inquired, gathering your hands in his.

"Very well. Pleasant dreams," you answered, grinning up at him with a bite of your lip as pink tinted his cheeks. "So...I kind of feel like this...should probably stay between us for a while. My mom is very perceptive and a bit of a gossip, you know..."

He nodded in agreement. "I understand."

"I'd like you to come to dinner tonight, though. If you're up for it," you offered, waiting in anticipation. "As long as you can handle my mother's inappropriate flirting, of course."

James let out a chuckle. "I'd love to, if you're sure..."

"Positive," you piped in, pecking a quick kiss to his lips before taking a step back. "I better get ready for the day. I'll be out with the training schedules in a while," you promised, reaching the stables entrance and stealing once last glance at his grinning face before practically skipping up to the house.

____________

The day passed in a typical fashion. Your focus was split between horse training, dealing with clients, paying the bills, and helping your mother on occasion. Interactions between James and yourself remained professional, only with a few more meaningful glances between you. He continued to be the quiet, strong presence you found comfort in and now craved.

James was also there when the veterinarian came to examine Jasper. The doctor assessed the animal and ran a few tests, including drawing fluid from the mass near Jasper's leg. Thankfully, James was able to keep the horse calm and the examination passed without incident. You would receive the results in a few days, hopefully.

In the late afternoon, you met Caleb at the bus stop and walked him home, asking about his day. He talked enthusiastically about an upcoming art project, but seemed a little down about a recent test score in math. Although you had done well in school yourself, math hadn't been your best subject. You promised to help him that evening to the best of your ability, though. Caleb perked back up when you mentioned that James would be coming tonight, which made you smile.

Reaching home, you allowed Caleb some short TV time to unwind while he sketched. You checked in again at the stables and stole a quick moment with James that left you breathless and grinning before going back up to the house to start dinner.

The simple pasta dish you had prepared was on the table when you heard a knock at the door, revealing James. You welcomed him in and took a careful glance around before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, then leading him to the dining room. Caleb and your mother joined shortly after and you all sat down to eat.

Your mother was still ever the flirt toward James, making him bashfully grin, but he talked more and joined in conversation at times. Plates were clean and compliments on your cooking were given as James offered to clear the table, despite your protesting. Caleb groaned when you mentioned the math homework he needed to finish but when he asked for James' help instead of yours, the man was sweet and accepted. The two retreated to the living room, spread out your son's books on the coffee table, and sat on the floor as you cleaned up the kitchen.

"It's about damn time," your mother said quietly as she carefully rose from her chair with a wince.

"What?" you asked in surprise, hoping she didn't mean what you thought she did.

"I would've jumped his bones the second I laid eyes on him, but to each their own. I'm happy for you," she declared, bringing her water glass to the sink.

Eyes wide, you backpedaled and tried to control the situation. "Mother, I don't know what you think is happening but..."

"Oh, I don't think. I know. As if I don't recognize a happy smile on my daughter's face for the first time since...I guess since you had Caleb?" she asked, giving you an incredulous look.

Taking a deep breath, you finally conceded. "You can't tell anyone, mom. You know what would happen."

"Sweetheart, I won't say a word. I only ever wanted for you to be happy and James is a good man, I can tell," she spoke softly, bringing tears to your eyes. "I'm gonna retire early tonight. I'm a deep sleeper, too. Won't hear a thing," she said with a wink and a sly smile.

"Mother!" you hissed, feeling the heat in your face, but she just cackled and waved you goodnight.

Approaching the living room, you heard two excited voices caught up in conversation, which made your heart swell. Apparently, they had moved away from math and on to Caleb's favorite subject: his birthday party.

"Mom is getting me a special cake and there's gonna be a magician and games and..." he trailed off to see you in the doorway. "Mom, can James come to my birthday party?"

You glance James' way and tried to gauge his reaction.

"I don't know, pal. I'm not good with crowds," he answered, hesitant to say no. "But...maybe I could come see you before the party? Help set up?" he asked, looking to you for confirmation.

"Of course! You're welcome anytime," you said with a smile. "I could always use some help."

Caleb considered this option, a contemplative look upon his young face. "I guess that's okay," he said with a shrug.

James' shoulders relaxed as he stood up from the floor and stretched, his muscles straining against the long-sleeved shirt that was a size too small. He caught your eye with a wink and you smiled, then returning your focus to Caleb.

"Did you get all your homework done?"

"Yep! James helped me with math. He explained it a lot better than my teacher," your son replied with an adoring look toward the man.

"It's been a while, but I guess some of it stuck," the brunet shrugged.

You grinned at him. "I'm glad. Go get ready for bed, sweetie," you requested of your son.

He sighed dramatically, but didn't resist. "Okay. Night, James," he said with a quick hug and you ruffled his hair as he left the room.

You followed the blond boy's progress up the stairs and out of sight before you stepped forward and looped your arms around James' neck.

"Not a fan of parties?" you asked, losing your hands in his silky chestnut strands.

"Nah," he replied, running his hands down your sides, giving you shivers. "Glad I'll still get to see you, though."

"Same here," you assured him, capturing his lips for a slow kiss before he broke it off quickly.

"Wait! Is this okay? You said..." he spoke in a whispered panic.

"My mother knows. She gave us her blessing," you shrugged.

His eyes widened. "She...wow. She really is observant," he said with a chuckle. "I should go, though."

You pouted a moment, but then lead him down the hallway to the front door. Stepping out onto the porch with him, James donned his cap and jacket before enveloped you in a tight hug, tucking his face against your neck. It was only a hug, but somehow it was also intimate and felt incredible just to hold him. Reluctantly, you both let go and he walked to the end of the porch until you stopped him.

"Wait. Do you want to take the truck? You shouldn't have to walk in the dark," you declared, reaching through the doorway for the keys and offering them.

James took a long look out into the darkness and then took a step toward you, accepting the keys. "I'm not too worried about the dark, but...thank you," he said, letting his hand wrap around your fingers and the keys before retreating into the night, heading toward the stables where the truck was parked.

You watched the taillights get smaller before you headed upstairs to bed, hoping for more amazing dreams that night.

_______________

Saturday morning was a mad rush of food preparation, moving furniture, decorating the house and yard, as well as wrapping a few presents you hadn't gotten around to yet. Once again, you had no idea how you would have done it all without James' help. He moved the tables and chairs outside on the lawn. Luckily, the weather was sunny and fairly warm so the kids wouldn't be cooped up inside all day. Your mother helped blow up balloons and assisted with the food as much as she could.

It wasn't until mid-morning that a sudden thought occurred to you, stopping you in your tracks.

"Dammit. The cake," you uttered, striking a palm against your forehead. "I ordered it a few days ago, but forgot to schedule picking it up. It's from a bakery the next town over, since none nearby could handle Caleb's allergies...It's an hour away, I don't know how I'm gonna..." you ranted in worry, but thankfully James interrupted, placing hands on your shoulders.

"Y/N, it's fine," he said calmly. "Take a breath. I'll go pick up the cake, do you have directions?"

Taking his advice, you inhaled deeply and then nodded. "Yes, I have the address on my phone. Thank you, thank you, thank you," you answered, jotting down the info before pecking a kiss on his cheek and shoving him out the door.

____________

Everything was about ready with half an hour to spare before the kids arrived. James was due back any minute with the cake and you were about to sit down for the first time all morning when you heard a car approaching. Glancing out the window, your stomach dropped to see the police cruiser come to a stop and Kevin climb out with a gift in hand. The man was never on time for anything, so of course he's early when it's most inconvenient.

Opening the screen door, you met him on the porch, arms crossed over your chest. "You made it."

"I said I would," he replied, moseying up to you with one hand on his belt. Thankfully, he was off duty so no firearm attached to his hip. You weren't a big fan of guns. "So? Where's the birthday boy?"

"He's inside," you said, leading him into the house. You didn't like inviting your ex into the safe space of your home, but this was for Caleb, so you let it slide.

Kevin called out for the boy and he came running with a wide grin on his face. He handed the boy the wrapped gift and gave him a quick hug, then sending him off to play before following you into the kitchen, which was unfortunate. You were setting up a tray of snacks when he decided to leaning against the counter and linger, much to your chagrin.

"A magician? Seriously?" he asked with a grimace.

You huffed out an annoyed sigh. "That's what your son wanted. It's his birthday," you replied, avoiding his gaze.

"Whatever happened to a good ol' clown? You know, with the balloon animals and all that," he asked, leaning too close for your comfort, causing you to step away.

"Clowns are creepy," you stated, "and Caleb hates them. Listen, if you want to wait in the living room, the party starts in..."

"What, am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked with a grin. "I always did know how to make you squirm..." he said, trying to pull you into his side, but you resisted.

"Please don't do that!" you cried out, wrenching your arm out of grasp but he remained too close.

You must have missed the tires on the dirt road because the next sound you heard was the bang of the screen door closing. "Y/N! I've got the cake, where do you want me to..." James spoke, then stopping short as he stepped into the kitchen with a large white box in his hands.

Clearing your throat, you stepped away from Kevin and addressed the brunet before you. "Um...thank you. You can set that on the table. I'll put the candles on and bring it out later," you replied, meeting James' eyes and hoping he wouldn't comment on his earlier observation. He set down the box as directed and turned to go.

"Who's this guy?" Kevin inquired, puffing his chest out as he turned to face James.

"He's a friend. He was doing me a favor by picking up the cake, but he was just leaving..." you uttered in explanation.

"Wait, wait...is this the stable boy? Yeah, I bet he's doing you ALL sorts of favors," Kevin insinuated suggestively. "You letting him around my boy?"

James tensed at Kevin's rude comments, his jaw clenched and both hands closed into fists at his sides.

"I've told you, James is an employee and who I hire is none of your business."

"Yeah, well, strange men around my son IS my business," your ex demanded, eyeing the other man with scrutiny.

You stepped between the two men and faced Kevin with an open hand toward him. "Well, Caleb doesn't spend much time in the stables, so that's not a problem. As I said, James was just leaving, so..." you trailed off, turning toward James.

"He better be," Kevin growled, stepping up right behind you, causing you to flinch.

James' gaze flickered between you and Kevin, torn at the thought of leaving you alone with him and facing the consequences of staying.

"Thanks again, James," you said with voice even, forcing a smile. "I'll see you later."

He nodded at that, holding your gaze as long as possible until you heard the front door close and you exhaled.

"Guy looks like a creep. Where'd he come from?" Kevin questioned you, but thankfully kids began to arrive then and you were able to escape.

The party was a success and Caleb had a great time, even trying to show excitement when he received a baseball glove from his dad. Yet another standard for the boy to live up to. You hated him.

Kevin got a few beers in him, thankfully content to talk with the other parents and he stayed away from you. The cake was cut and everyone enjoyed it, no one suspecting that it was gluten- and dairy-free. Some bakers can work miracles.

The last of the kids were waving goodbye to Caleb as the sun began to dip below the horizon. You picked up all the paper plates and wiped off the outside furniture, but decided to wait to move everything until later. You were exhausted and just needed to rest.

Kevin hugged his son goodbye and you offered a small wave with your hands full. As his police cruiser turned out onto the main road, you felt like you could breathe again. How you stayed with him for 5 years was still a mystery since you could barely handle a few hours now.

Caleb was hyper and sugared up all afternoon. He started to crash around dinner time, though, so you had to coerce him into eating an actually meal before he happily went off to bed. Your mother did the same shortly after and you were just putting away the leftovers when you heard a soft knock on the door.

Your heart leapt into your throat to see James on the porch. Opening the door, you grabbed a sweater from the hook and stepped outside. He stood with hands in his pockets, seeming a little unsure.

"I was afraid I scared you off," you joked, a small nervous laugh escaping you.

"Never," he replied in response, his expression serious.

An unexpected sob escaped as you launched yourself into his arms and he obliged, pulling you close. He let you cry for a few minutes before you pulled away and wiped your eyes. "Sorry I'm such a mess. I swear, I haven't cried this often in a long time," you chuckled thickly.

"You're not a mess. You're one of the strongest women I know, even after all you've been through. I came over to make sure you were okay," he said, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "I hated leaving you with him," he growled, his voice hard.

"I hated sending you way," you replied, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. No baseball cap this time. "But you came back," you said with a grateful smile, eyes flickering to his lips.

James placed a gloved hand against your neck, soft gaze in his eye as he leaned close. "You're worth it," he whispered, feeling his breath against your lips before he closed the distance between you. 

______________________

_Part 6 Coming Soon....._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to be getting back to this story! I've really missed this characters. What did you think of her history with Kevin? Isn't James just the sweetest ever? And her mother is such a hoot! I just love writing her. Kevin is literally the worst, right? Ugh. Gross. How do you think her relationship with James will progress from here? I'd love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, James (Bucky), Caleb (oc), Margaret (oc), Kevin (oc)
> 
> Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> Warnings: Plenty of fluff and then…bit of a bomb shell drops and angst follows. heh. Sorry. :) Mentions of anxiety, violence, and PTSD. 
> 
> Word Count: 4.9K

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my darlings! I’m so excited about this part! So much freaking fluff and cuteness, I hope you can stand it! And then…oof. The truth is going to start to unfold. Are you ready?? I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! I love you all! :)

_Previously:_

_"Sorry I'm such a mess. I swear, I haven't cried this often in a long time," you chuckled thickly._

_"You're not a mess. You're one of the strongest women I know, even after all you've been through. I came over to make sure you were okay," he said, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "I hated leaving you with him," he growled, his voice hard._

_"I hated sending you way," you replied, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. No baseball cap this time. "But you came back," you said with a grateful smile, eyes flickering to his lips._

_James placed a gloved hand against your neck, soft gaze in his eye as he leaned close. "You're worth it," he whispered, feeling his breath against your lips before he closed the distance between you._

_________________

James lingered with you on the porch swing as long as possible, but eventually he noticed you shivering and sent you inside, unfortunately alone. He gave you a long kiss goodnight, climbed into the truck and drove away leaving you to fall asleep with a smile upon your lips.

Sunday passed in it's usual fashion. You and Caleb attended church with your mother and then spending a lazy afternoon relaxing. You were lounging in the living room with a book in hand but your mind was elsewhere, daydreaming of secluded moments with a certain kind, handsome man. A knock at the door interrupted your reverie, however, and you rose to answer.

James surprised you once again by showing up on your porch, this time with a wrapped package in his gloved hands.

Opening the screen door wide, you stepped out in stocking feet with a huge grin on your face.

"Hi," you said in simple greeting.

"Afternoon," he smiled, grasping your hand in his. He stepped closer, gaze flickering to your lips when the sound of footsteps cause you to jump apart in surprise.

"James!" Caleb called out as he ran for the door. The sweet boy zoomed past you and wrapped his skinny arms around James making him stumbled back.

"Whoa! Hey, there, birthday boy. I came over because I realized I forgot to give you your gift yesterday," the man said with a soft smile, offering the package wrapped in simple brown paper to Caleb.

"More presents? Wahoo!! Can I open it, mom, please please?" the boy glance up at you, jumping in excitement.

You laughed, finding joy in his enthusiasm. "Of course, but let's allow James to come in so he can watch you open it there, rather than in the doorway, hm?"

"Yes! Come in, James," Caleb answered, forcibly pulling the much-larger man by the hand into the entryway.

James offered that wide, toothy smile you loved as he took off his jacket and followed the birthday boy into the living room. Caleb crouched at the coffee table and ripped open the gift in a hurry. The brown paper fell away and when you saw what it was, your heart caught in your throat.

"A sketch pad? And new drawing pencils? I love it! Thank you so much, James! I'm going to go try them out right now!" Caleb cradled the precious items in one arm as he wrapped the other around James quickly before rushing out of the room.

James chuckled and caught your eye, an adoring expression upon his face. Not the least bit worried about getting caught, you wrapped your arms around him and without hesitation pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. He was surprised, but leaned into it, holding you closer against his muscular chest. You pulled away reluctantly and held his gaze with tears in your eyes. 

"Thank you. You're just...you're amazing. That will be his favorite gift by far," you said with emotion in your voice followed by a bubble of laughter. "I swear, there will be a time that I don't cry in your presence, but if you keep being perfect, I'm not sure when that'll be."

James let out a dry laugh in response. "I'm far from perfect. I just know that you deserve the world and I..." he paused, rubbing a hand across your back. "Well, all I can say is I'm here for you. And Caleb. I wasn't sure I would ever find someone to care for after...everything."

You caressed a hand over his stubbled cheek and he raised his own to hold it there, closing his eyes to linger in the moment. James eventually released you and straightened up, clearing his throat with a teary smile of his own to share.

Taking a step back, you held his hand in yours and led him into the hallway. "So. I was about to start dinner. Do you want to help?" you asked.

Glancing back you could see a look of fear upon his face. "I don't...I can't really cook..."

You snickered at his expression. "It's fine, don't worry. I can give you simple tasks to help or if not, I wouldn't mind you just keeping me company."

"I don't want to overstay my welcome...I wasn't looking for a dinner invitation, I swear, I just found the gift and..."

You stopped him then, whirling to face him with a serious expression. "James. I want you to know that you are welcome in this house at any time. Never think that I don't want you here because I do. More than you know," you spoke plainly, holding his gaze to get the message across.

He gave a half smile and nodded at that.

"Alright, then."

The dinner plan that night was homemade chili and cornbread, so you had James help stir and watch the timer for the oven as you chopped vegetables. You moved around each other smoothly with lingering touches and perhaps a kiss on occasion. James loved the way you would hum and sway your hips to some song in your head and you often caught him watching you with a smile.

An hour later, dinner was on the table and you hollered to gather your family members. Caleb scampered around the corner with his new sketchbook in hand. He wanted to keep it with him even during dinner, but you convinced him that he wouldn't want it splattered with food so he set it on your desk around the corner. Your mother moved much more slowly, shuffling into the kitchen and giving a sly smile to see James seated at the table.

"Nice to see you again, James. My handsome quota is dangerously low for the day, so I hope you're staying for movie night," your mother offered with a wink as she carefully settled in her seat.

James glanced at you in confusion.

"Oh, um...we're planning to watch a movie after dinner and yes, you are invited," you assured him, gripping his thigh under the table.

He grinned with a nod. "Okay. What movie are we watching?"

"I get to pick tonight," Caleb piped up, dancing in his seat, "and it's a surprise!"

You chuckled. "Alright, then. I guess we'll find out.

Dinner was a lively affair with both Caleb's and your mother's antics, even wrestling a laugh or two out of James. The chili and cornbread was a perfect meal for the crisp, Autumn night outside. James loved that he was able to help, enjoying the dish so much that he had three helpings. As spoons clanged against empty bowls, you sat back in your chair feeling satisfied and happy.

"Caleb, why don't you go set it up the movie in the tv room and we'll finish up the dishes," you said in offering. He jumped up from the table then, racing down the hall.

Your mother gingerly rose from the table. "I'll supervise the selection process," she declared and followed the boy.

Taking a deep breath, you turned toward James and then clasped his right hand in yours on the tabletop. "Still okay with staying for the movie? I know I kind of highjacked your night with dinner..."

He squeezed your hand affectionately. "I'm definitely up for it. Trust me...there's nowhere else I'd rather be," he replied sincerely, igniting a happy warmth inside you.

"Okay," you smiled, returning the hand squeeze.

Caleb was all ready in the tv room when you and James entered from cleaning up the kitchen. Your son was settled on the floor surrounded by pillows and your mother had commandeered the couch for her to lounge on, leaving the smaller love-seat for you and James. Not at all coincidental, you were sure. Caleb still wouldn't tell what the movie was, so he just pressed play and you watched the credits begin to roll. Your eyes grew wide when you saw the title displayed in large letters, "PATTON".

"Mother!" you cried out. "I'm not sure this is appropriate for an eight-year old," you protested.

"What? He wanted to watch a war movie after the museum and my father's photos, so what's the harm?" she said nonchalantly.

You let out a deep sigh. "Okay, but if it gets too violent, I'm vetoing," you threatened.

As the movie began, you grabbed the blanket from behind you and threw it over you and James, partly for warmth and also to allow some covert hand holding. James absent-mindedly traced patterns on the back of your hand with his thumb.

The movie was pretty tame, by war movie standards. You had Caleb look away during the opening scene because of the soldier's wounds. After that it mellowed almost to the point of boring, so you weren't worried until the battle began. The gunfire and injuries were obviously fake with special effects leaving something to be desired, but as the "pop, pop" sounds continued, you could feel James begin to tense beside you. A particularly loud shell explosion caused him to jump and when you glance his way, he had his eyes screw shut.

Rubbing a hand over his tense bicep, you tried to gain his attention but he seemed frozen.

"Caleb, pause the movie," you demanded.

"Aw, mom, but it's getting to the good par..."

"NOW."

He did as you asked then, hearing the seriousness of your voice. Taking in James' distressed state, the boy paled slightly and now understood your command. "James? Are you okay? I'm—I'm sorry..."

James just shook his head then and tried to breath deeply, clinging to your hand in desperation. He rubbed his left gloved hand over his face and now held an expression of embarrassment.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't...I can't...excuse me," he stood abruptly, trying to untangle your hands but you held fast and followed him into the hallway.

You waited a moment as he collected himself, still allowing your hand to rest in his. "James?" you asked tentatively.

He huffed out a sigh. "I ruined your movie night, I'm sorry. I should go."

Trying to hide your disappointment, you nodded. "If you feel like you have to, but I promise, you haven't ruined anything. I'm vetoing and stopping the movie anyway. I should have put my foot down when I saw what it was. Caleb is too young. But...if you want to stay, we can watch something else...or play board games, I don't know, I just...I'm saying that if you feel comfortable enough to stay, then I absolutely want you to," you assure him.

Finally meeting your eye, James heard your words and his expression softened. "Okay. I'll stay."

You smiled at that and then led him back into the tv room when he assured you he was okay to return. Caleb was removing the DVD as you entered and turned when he heard your footsteps.

"I don't wanna watch this anymore, mom," he stated, as if it was solely his idea. You knew that he felt guilty for making James feel bad and now wanted to fix it. Your son was a sensitive boy, always trying to do the right thing for everyone. You really were blessed to have him.

You nodded at his decision. "Okay. So, a different movie? Or maybe some board games? We haven't done that in a while," you offered.

"Yeah! Can we play Monopoly, mom?" Caleb asked as he raced toward the closet for the game.

"I guess so," you agreed and the four of you settled around the coffee table.

The game lasted almost two hours with the usual disagreements about who played the banker and groaning over that one square with all the hotels. Caleb was somehow winning but you had your suspicions that he was in cahoots with James, since they were both dominating the board. The handsome brunet had needed a refresher of the rules at first, but he remembered playing it as a child and said it brought back good memories.

The night only ended when you glanced at the clock and saw that it was way past Caleb's bedtime. He whined in protest, but you declared him the winner since he had the most property and money along with a promise to play again soon. Your mother had actually bowed out of the game an hour before and was dozing lightly on the couch.

"I guess I should wake her and get her to bed," you whispered, about to rouse her from sleep but James placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I can carry her," he offered.

"I'm sure she would love that," you said with an amused smile.

James lifted your mother with one arm behind her back and the other under her knees as she curled into his chest. At that point, you suspected that your mother was semi-awake, but she still kept her eyes closed as you led James down the hall to her bedroom. As he laid her down, you could have sworn you heard her mutter "my hero" before she turned onto her side. Ever the flirt, even in slumber.

You walked back down the hall toward the entryway where James collected his jacket and hat. He slipped them on and as he stepped out onto the porch, you followed. He paused then, breathing in the crisp autumn air before he turned toward you. There was so much you wanted to ask and say, but instead you just closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. He did the same, clinging to you with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. You breathed in his scent and heard the steady rhythm of his heart as you remained in each others arms as long as he allowed.

James finally loosened his grip and pulled away.

You dared to ask then, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He gave a sad smile and slowly shook his head. "Not just yet. But thank you."

"Of course. I'm so glad you stayed."

"Me, too," he declared, then pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You just nodded and waved goodbye as he walked out into the night.

___________________

On Monday, James seemed to be back to his normal self: still reserved and quiet, but smiling and always happy to see you. The rest of the week you fell into a comfortable routine with work during the day and then James coming over at night for dinner and time with the family. The only exception was Wednesday night when Kevin came to pick up and drop off Caleb for karate. You thought it would be best if the two men didn't interact, so James went home after work that day and you missed him.

James surprised you on Thursday as you were saying your reluctant goodbyes by asking you out on an actual date. He said you deserved to be pampered and to have someone else cook for you, so he set up the date for Friday night, the following day. The timing was perfect, actually, since Kevin finally agreed to have Caleb stay the night after weeks of promising and pushing it off.

Your mother even declared that she would be gone for a few days on a spontaneous trip with her Poker ladies, which surprised you. Apparently, they planned to gamble and "raise hell", according to her. You just hoped no one would break a hip. It also left the house empty, which offered thrilling possibilities.

That night you helped Caleb with his laundry and pulled out a duffle bag from a closet for his clothes. As he selected a few shirts to pack, he turned to you with a contemplative expression.

"Mom?"

You hummed in questioning response.

"Do you like James?" he asked, taking a seat on his bed.

Pausing for a moment, you caught his eye and took in his curious expression. "Of course I like James. Don't you?" you asked, treading lightly.

"Yeah, but I mean...do you like him as a boyfriend?" he inquired, picking at a loose thread on the t-shirt in his lap.

Closing the dresser drawer you had been searching, you walked around the bed and took a seat beside him.

"Would it bother you if I did?" you replied, wanting to be honest and not at all surprised that your sensitive son had picked up on your behavior toward the handsome man.

He shrugged at first. "I don't know. It doesn't bother me, I guess. I like James and he makes you happy so that's good, right? I know dad doesn't make you happy. All you do is fight when you're together," he said in a sad tone.

"You're right," you declared, placing a hand on his to still his fidgeting so he would look your way. "James does make me happy. I care about him a lot, but I want you to know that you will always be more important. Okay? If me dating James makes you unhappy, I want you to tell me. You promise?" you asked.

He nodded his blond head in agreement.

"Okay. And I'm sorry that you see me and your dad fight. We both want what's best for you and sometimes we don't agree on that. We met when we were kids and I think sometimes we still act like those crazy kids. It's never your fault, though, I want you to know that. We both love you so much," you said with emotion in your voice.

He just nodded again but leaned into you for a hug and you wrapped your arms around the sweet little boy who was the best part of your life, even if it meant dealing with Kevin. He made it all worth it.

Caleb pulled away then and stood up from the bed. "I want you to date James, mom. If you want to. I like seeing you happy," he said with that sweet grin that made your heart melt.

"Thank you, sweetie," you replied, ruffling his hair with your fingers and then pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Let's get you packed for when your dad comes tomorrow, huh?"

_____________

Friday morning you saw your mom off as she was picked up by one of her friend. Later after work, James left in the truck just a few minutes before Kevin arrived. Caleb was packed and ready, so he raced down the steps, barely pausing to hug you, and was in the police car seconds after it came to a stop. You were relieved, thinking your ex would just drive off then, but much to your disappointment, he felt the need to climb out of the car and approach you.

"So," he drawled with one hand resting on his belt buckle, "whole house to yourself, huh? That creepy stable boy ain't here, is he?" Kevin craned his neck to look into the stables then.

You rolled your eyes at that. "No. He's not here. And as I've said before, he AND the stables are none of your business," you emphasized with a finger poke to his chest.

"Listen, here..." he began with chest puffed out.

"No, you listen!" you interrupted with a loud voice. "I'm a good mother and a strong, capable business woman. I deserve to be happy and who I spend my time with is not dictated by you OR your blackmail. Show it to a judge, I don't care. My good standing as a business owner and my place in this community will show what sort of person I am. Compared to you, a slimy, crooked officer of the law who's slept with almost every woman in town and has to blackmail his ex-wife for custody. Which you don't even want! You'd never want Caleb full-time, he'd cramp your 'bachelor lifestyle'. I'm not going to let you control me anymore. You want to go to court, then let's go. We'll see who Caleb's true parent is."

You smiled and exhaled triumphantly, having finally spoken your piece. Kevin just held his hands up in surrender and slowly walked backward toward his car, clearly shocked by your outburst. Without saying a word, he climbed back into his car and drove away. Feeling elation from the conversation and excitement for your date, you ran into the house and got ready with butterflies in your stomach.

James arrived an hour later and when you opened the door, he took your breath away. He always looked handsome in his jeans and long-sleeved shirts, but seeing him in dress slacks and a white button-up shirt with a leather jacket almost rendered you catatonic. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, leaving the hat at home. The scruff on his chin remained, though, which you loved. He stepped inside and handed you a small bouquet of wildflowers that smelled amazing.

He was in awe upon seeing you as well. Having finally taken the time to put on proper make up and done your hair before donning one of your favorite dresses that accentuated all the right features, you felt beautiful, especially under his adoring gaze.

After you put the flowers in a vase with water, he couldn't wait any longer before he pulled you close and planted a passionate kiss upon your lips. You would've been content to stay in and explore more of that, but James insisted upon honoring the dinner reservation, so you grabbed a shawl that matched your dress and walked out the door.

James helped you into the truck and headed out of town, which surprised you. Your destination was in the next town over, a family-owned Italian restaurant that you had heard good things about. The food was delicious and the company even better. James seemed to relax somewhat and opened up a little more about his life. He mentioned his parents who had passed years ago and a younger sister. His military service had taken up much of his life so he hadn't kept in touch with many of his friends and other family.

You, on the other hand, shared anecdotes about your life growing up and snippets of basically being a single mother to Caleb. No tears this time, though. You kept things light and there was even laughter as you recalled the first time your son got his hands on a permanent marker. Thankfully, instead of attacking the walls as some children would, he chose to focus on his own skin, scribbling on almost every inch of himself. There were many baths, much gentle scrubbing, and several days before it wore off.

The drive back was more quiet, but comfortable. As James pulled the truck into your driveway and cut the engine, you felt those butterflies return. He walked around the truck to open your door and held your hand as you walked up the porch steps. You paused just before the door and gauged his expression. He looked more nervous than you.

Pressing a kiss to his lips, you reached for the door and pulled it open. Breaking the kiss, you met his eye.

"Will you come in?" you asked expectantly.

He hesitated a moment before following you inside with a nod and a smile. You hung up your shawl and James slipped out of his jacket and laid it on the arm of a chair before settling on the couch. He sat stiffly, seeming tense, so you offered to put on a movie. The opening credits rolled and he relaxed, content to rest his right hand on your knee and rub circles on your skin with his thumb. You laid your head on his shoulder and felt the warm comfort of his body against yours, sighing in contentment.

Partway thought the movie, you felt the atmosphere change. James' hand brushed a little higher on your thigh and you turned to face him, your noses now inches apart. He closed the distance between you and brushed his lips against yours before shifting his body toward you. Looping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer as your fingers tangled in his chestnut strands. You gasped against his mouth, gaining his tongue entrance as the kiss deepened. You felt the heat pooling in your stomach as one of your hands left his hair to trail down toward his chest where your fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt.

You felt James tense at your action and he pulled away from you, sudden doubt in his eyes.

"I—I'm sorry, I thought..." you stammered, leaning away from him.

"No, no...I'm sorry. It's not you, I promise," he assured you. "I just don't know if..."

"It's okay if you don't want to..."

"It's not that! I do. God, you don't even know how much I want to. You're gorgeous and sexy and smart and perfect. I just..." he paused, letting out a frustrated sigh as he ran a gloved hand through his hair. You didn't even notice the glove anymore, but you should have known.

"Is it because of this?" you asked, gingerly placing your hand on the wrist of his injured arm before he gently pulled it away. "It doesn't bother me. No matter what it looks like, no matter what you've been through, I care for ALL of you."

He exhaled, threading your fingers with his and gave them a squeeze. "Thank you. I just...I think I need a little more time. There's a lot more I have to...explain...before we..."

You nodded. "I understand," you said, putting on a smile.

He held your gaze then, taking in every inch of your face as if to memorize it. "How did I get so lucky?" he asked with awe in his voice.

You shrugged and replied, attempting to lighten the mood, "I don't know, but you must've done something good in a former life."

James snorted in disbelief. "I don't know about that..."

Brushing a hand over James' cheek, you gently leaned in again, pressing a soft but meaningful kiss to his lips. You pulled away and he rested his forehead against yours.

"I'm really glad I asked you out," he declared, making you laugh.

"Me, too," you replied with a grin

He rested both hand on his knees, then standing from the couch. "I think we better call it a night."

You nodded, a little disappointed but still happy that he was honest with you and such a gentleman. Much preferred over the alternative. James gathered his jacket from the chair and you followed him to the door. One last kiss and he was gone, leaving you with an empty house for once.

You considered finishing the movie, but had lost interest so you turned it off and were about to head upstairs when you noticed something on the chair near the hallway. Approaching, you recognized it as James' little notebook that he always had with him, often jotting down notes or thoughts, he had told you. You'd return it to him tomorrow.

Lifting the notebook by the front cover, something fluttered out of its pages and onto the floor. You bent down to pick it up and when your eyes rested on the image, your heart stopped.

You must not have heard the knock or James' tentative entrance because suddenly, he was in the room and speaking to you.

"Sorry, Y/N, but have you seen my..." He froze upon seeing his notebook in your hand and the look on your face.

Slowly turning his way, you held the image out to show him. "Where did you get this?"

His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out as a guilty expression painted his features.

"Where did you get this picture?" you asked more forcefully, stalking toward him.

"I can't....I don't...."

"You don't know? This photo has been lost for generations and you just happened to have it in your possession?" You looked down once again at the black and white photo in your hands. It was your grandmother and grandfather on their wedding day with her perched on his lap, looking as happy as two people in love can be. It was always said that you were the spitting image of your grandmother, especially here when she was just a little younger than you.

James continued to stammer, "I, uh...are you sure it wasn't from that box of photos? Caleb said there was..."

"No," you broke in. "Don't lie to me. This particular photo was with my grandfather when he was shipped out during World War II. You want to know how I know? I've only heard stories...the inscription on the back, 'And baby makes three. Come home to us, Love, Eleanor.' " you read it out loud, "it's in my grandmother's handwriting. That was how he found out they were expecting my mother. It was supposed to be his lucky charm and when he died in battle, it should have been sent home and buried with him. So tell me, was your ancestor a grave robber during the war or something? Did he pass it down to you like a creepy family heirloom?" you asked accusingly, holding the photograph inches from his face as evidence.

You were so confused at that moment, rage consuming you. Barely registering how panicked and pale James had become, you waited for his response.

He finally croaked out a response, "No, it's not like that."

"Oh? So what is it like? Hm? Tell me," you demanded.

James hyperventilated a moment, rubbing a jittery hand over his face as he turned away.

"I'll ask you one last time, where did you get my grandfather's photograph?" you said, seething.

He whirled toward you quickly, startling you as he blurted out his response.

"Because he gave it to me!

__________________

_Part 7 coming soon..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh!!! Weren't those moments with James so sweet? And the gift? Oh my heart! I think we all see Caleb as a little Steve, right? That was my intention. :) A date! Finally! I love their relaxed times together! It got a little steamy, but...you know it couldn't be that easy. The ball had to drop some time. Any theories on how he got the picture? I'd love to hear your thoughts! And thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, James (Bucky), Caleb (oc), Margaret (oc), Kevin (oc)
> 
> Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> Warnings: Angst and a lot of explanation, ya’ll. :) Mentions of violence, death, and a tiny bit of self-harm.
> 
> Word Count: 4.8K

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. This was a doozy to write, my dears. I hope you wanted some answers, cause you got ‘em. I kept it as canon as possible but forgive me if I stray a little. I adore you guys. Thank you for the love and support for this story. There’s at least 2 more parts coming! Whoo! :)

_Previously:_

_James hyperventilated a moment, rubbing a jittery hand over his face as he turned away._

_"I'll ask you one last time, where did you get my grandfather's photograph?" you said, seething._

_He whirled toward you quickly, startling you as he blurted out his response._

_"Because he gave it to me!"_

____________

Stumbling backwards in shock, James' words struck you like a punch to the gut.

"Wh—what did you just say?" you whispered, so sure you were hearing things.

He hung his head, refusing to meet your eye. "Your grandfather. He gave me that photograph."

Blinking as if to process the absurd words he spoke, you glance down at the photo, now faded with age. Your grandmother's inscription on the back had faded as well, but her penmanship was unmistakable. She had written you letters all through middle school and high school after she moved to an assisted living home several hours away. She passed just after Caleb was born leaving behind an ache that never fully healed.

Tears threatened, but instead of letting the sadness take over, you felt anger over the man's words, obviously a mockery of your grandparents' memories. Your rage simmered inside you until it boiled over.

"Is this a joke to you?" you snarled accusingly, taking a step forward. "How could you lie about something like that? Are you so cold-hearted that you would make light of my grandfather's death? You can't possibly be older than 30, how could he have given you this back in 1944? You're sick and...and..."

"Y/N, please, just let me explain..." he attempted to speak, his hands raised in surrender.

You scoffed. "Explain? What, and let you spin more of your lies? Who are you, really? Is James even your real name? Have you been lying about being in the military and your injury? Ugh, I feel so stupid, how do these awful men find me? And why do I always let them into my life?" you muttered on, mostly now speaking to yourself. Your hand flew to your head, tugging at your roots as if to ground yourself, making you wince. You felt like you were going insane.

"Stop! Don't hurt yourself, please, Y/N!" James pleaded with you as he rushed forward, stopping short of touching you only because you recoiled away from him. He backed away slowly, but still tried to reason with you. "Five minutes. Please. Give me five minutes and after that, you never have to see me again."

Lowering your hands, you sidestepped away from him and put the length of the couch between you. You took a few deep breaths and reluctantly gave a curt nod. "Five minutes," you agreed.

He exhaled, taking a seat in the arm chair while you slowly lowered onto the far end of the couch. You didn't want this crazy person near you, but it's possible he wouldn't leave unless he gave you a chance to "explain".

James ran a hand through his hair, gathering his senses before speaking.

"Have you ever been to the Smithsonian Museum in D.C.?" he asked, throwing you completely off guard.

"Um....no, I haven't. We...we wanted to go, but travel is expensive and the horses..." you responded in a monotone voice you hardly recognized.

He just nodded then. "Okay. You've heard of Captain America? He has an exhibit there."

You furrowed your brow, even more confused. "Yes, I've heard of him. My...my grandfather was rescued along with his battalion by Captain America. Plus he's saved the world a few times more recently," you said flippantly. "What does that have to do with the photograph? Or you?" you demanded, fingering the photo still in your hand.

Leaning forward with elbows resting on his knees, he began to speak as if he'd been waiting 100 years to tell this story. "My name is James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky for short. I knew him before he became the nation's hero, back when he was a skinny kid from Brooklyn. He was my best friend, Steve Rogers."

Something buzzed in the back of your mind—your mother's mention of Cap's best friend "Bucky" along with James' childhood friend, Steve, he spoke of. It was all circumstantial, though, so you remained silent.

"I grew up with Steve and then was drafted with the 107th out of Brooklyn. I didn't know about his... _transformation_ until he came to rescue us behind enemy lines along with another battalion. Your grandfather's. I was shaken up by what that Doc had done to me. Experiments...machinery...I don't remember most of it, but I followed Steve's lead and joined the Howling Commandos instead of heading home. I couldn't leave him behind again, no matter what some scientist had done to him. Or me. There were the seven of us Howlies all the time, but every once in a while other guys would join us on missions. That's where your grandfather came in," he confessed, exhaling a sigh and catching his breath.

You remembered some of this information from history books, at least the rescue and Captain's band of brothers battling HYDRA. James continued on.

"We were a rowdy, irreverent group but we were good at what we did. Had experts in every field and always covered our bases, except...well, on a mission late in 1944, we were trekking though the snowy woods and one of our guys was running point. He tripped a boobytrap wire and the guy behind him caught the blast," he said in a whisper, dropping his head in his hands. "I was right next to him and couldn't do a damn thing. Shrapnel and other injuries from the explosion...no medic could save him. It shouldn't have happened. Your grandfather died a hero, though. That explosion was bound to signal the enemy, so he yelled at us to leave him and find cover. I was with him last and he shoved something into my hand telling me ' _Find them...tell them_...' before pushing me to leave," he said, voice wavering.

Blinking back tears, you stared down at the smiling face of the a man you never met but felt like you knew so well. You grew up hearing stories and seeing photos on display at your grandmother's. She never wanted to forget him and passed his legacy on to your mother, yourself, and now Caleb. You heard James sniffle and almost forgot the absurdity of the rest of his story.

You cleared your throat. "That still doesn't explain your presence here or any of the rest," you demanded with a harsh tone.

He nodded, wringing his hands and then continuing on. "I'm getting there. I didn't even see what he had handed me until we were safely back at base. It was that photograph. I honestly didn't know what to do with it, but I kept it with me. I felt like the time would come. I did push for us to go back and retrieve his body. Our commander forbade it, but I convinced Steve, so....we did it anyway."

The circumstances around your grandfather's death had mostly been a mystery all these years, so if it was true, knowing what happened was a small blessing. IF it was true. You made a small gesture for him to continue, leaning back slightly in your seat on the couch.

"A few weeks later, we went after the HYDRA scientist and there was a train...I remember picking up the shield, a blast had blown the train car wide open and ...I fell. It was...I don't know, thousands of feet? I still don't know how I survived but hundreds of times since then, I've wished I hadn't. Death would have been much kinder than 70 years of torture, brainwashing, and being used as an unwilling assassin. I had been captured by HYDRA, lost my arm, my freedom...my mind....Steve thought I died, and so did the rest of the world. I'm sure he was the one who pushed for it, and since I've mentioned his...I'm in the Smithsonian Museum, too. There's a memorial for a man I don't even recognize, but...he has my face," James said in disbelief, his eyes unfocused in memory.

"And your agelessness?" you asked, urging him on.

His gaze flickered to you as he shifted in his chair. "Well...you know how Steve was frozen in the ice after he crashed that plane like a stupid goddamn idiotic hero?" he asked with unexplained bitterness in his voice.

You furrowed your brow at his tone, but nodded in recognition.

"HYDRA had the same idea, but on purpose. I was cryogenically frozen time and time again, awoken only to have my memory wiped to serve their purpose. I fought it for years and years, I fought as long as I could, but...eventually there wasn't enough left of me to fight. I doubt I would have ever gotten myself back if it hadn't been for that day on the bridge a few months ago...and Steve. It was probably on the news, right? All that happened in D.C.?" he asked, waiting for your response.

Your thoughts drifted back to that day when three helicarriers fell into the Potomac and HYDRA was revealed to be the evil driving force behind SHIELD. National security was compromised and a spy nicknamed Black Widow spilled all their secrets onto the internet. The news footage ran on a loop all day, but you put a stop to it early on for Caleb's sake. He didn't need those images in his young mind. Still, you flipped over to the news later that night when your son went to bed and you learned that Captain America was responsible for HYDRA's fall and how he was recovering from multiple gunshots wounds in the hospital.

There were also speculations about the man who almost killed the Captain...the man with the metal arm. All images of him were grainy and unclear, but seeing James before you now helped put all the pieces together. Your eyes grew wide, meeting James' before he lowered his head in shame.

"Wait, you...you almost killed him. How...?" you trailed off, unsure how to finish your question as your gaze fell on his entirely covered left arm. The gloves. Of course.

"Yes, I was ordered to kill Steve," he admitted. "I am the Winter Soldier, or so they call me on the news. My handlers only called me "the asset". I had no name...until Steve gave it to me. Bucky. I still don't know if it fits me now. I'm not the man I was all those decades ago, but James...at least it's my given name," he said with a shrug.

Letting this information sink in, there were still so many questions left unanswered, but one pushed itself to the forefront of your mind. "Can I see...?" you began and then paused, but he knew to what you were referring.

Taking a deep breath, James sat up straight and moved his right hand to the glove on his left, pulling at the fabric of each finger until it slipped away revealing solid, shining metal underneath. A sharp intake of breath passed through your lips as your eyes grew wide. Fear was still present in you, but more prevalent was curiosity, causing you to lean forward until you were almost out of your seat. James had unbutton the cuff of his long-sleeved dress shirt revealing more of the silver metal and the intricate details of the dextrous prosthesis.

James saw your fascination and remained very still as he spoke next. "Y/N....I'm not going to hurt you. I've never wanted to hurt you. Despite everything I've told you and everything that I am...I doubt you'll even believe me, but I truly do care about you. I've hidden parts of myself, but never my feelings for you," he told you, sincerity bleeding into his voice.

You still didn't know what to believe, but one thing you knew for certain: James wouldn't hurt you intentionally. He'd had plenty of chances, many instances alone with you that if he wanted to, he could have. Even with Caleb...your heart raced at the possibility for a flickering moment, but somehow you still knew that your son was safe with James.

Slowly standing, you carefully made your way across the room and took a seat across from the chair James currently occupied. He remained still to avoid spooking you. Grasping the photograph in one hand, you shakily held out the other and gingerly brushed a finger over the smooth metal of his forearm. He watched your movement but said nothing, afraid to break the spell.

Avoiding his gaze, you spoke first. "So you ran from D.C. How do you still have the photograph if it fell with you from the train?" you inquired, curiosity in full flare now, the malice in your voice all but gone.

You noticed a small frown tugging at his lips out of the corner of your eye. "I left it. I carried it around for weeks and then that particular day....I don't know. Somehow, it stayed behind. It's interesting that you mentioned the photo being a lucky charm for your grandfather. I wish it had saved him. I doubt it would have save me that day, but it has crossed my mind since then. I did escape some hairy situations while I was carrying it, until the train..." he trailed off.

"How did you find it then? How are you here?" you asked, finding the courage to meet his eye.

He huffed out a sigh. "As far as where it went after I 'died', I can only speculate. If it was in my foot locker, then it might have been sent back to my family. All I know is when I walked through the newest exhibit at the Smithsonian displaying possessions of soldiers back then...there it was. I had wandered for days after that day by the Potomac...scrounging for food, squatting in abandoned warehouses, stealing clothes to get rid of my identifiable uniform...Then I saw a billboard for the Smithsonian with Steve's exhibit and I followed its directions. Seeing that photograph almost sparked more memories than Steve. Almost. I saw a face...a man lying in the snow and his words...' _find them_ '. It finally gave me a purpose. A goal. So I picked the lock on the display case and took it," he confessed, eyes wide when he noticed your hand resting on his metal wrist.

"And...how did you find me?" you asked in a whisper.

"In the war, we all talked about home and our families during down time. My brain was, and still is, a mess but somewhere in there I found the hometown your grandfather spoke of. I stole a map and started walking, even hitchhiking some, but I mostly avoided people seeing my face clearly, just in case. When I got into town, I found the local diner, scrounged up enough change for a cup of coffee and sat down on a barstool. Resting on the counter was an open newspaper, and there you were. The ad for the stables. I knew you were related to him. You look just like your grandmother, you know?" he said rhetorically with a soft smile.

"I know," you replied, glancing at the photograph. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I should have...and I meant to. There was just too much I couldn't even understand myself until recently. I get flashes of memories. I have dreams...sometimes nightmares. I write it all down but for the majority, I've lost the connections between the memories or I've forgotten the people involved. It's like trying to hold sand in your hands as it sifts through your fingers. It was a miracle that I found my way here, but...I've gotten better somewhat. Thanks to you," he confessed, letting out the smallest smiles.

You drew back slightly, shocked. "Thanks to me? How?"

He shrugged one shoulder, looking more relaxed after his confession. "Well, you gave me a job and a reason to stay in one place for a while. I was able to lead a pretty normal life and I guess 'normal' is what I needed. The horses, too, strangely enough. I've read about how animals can help people heal and I've found that to be true. Also, your kindness and strength have helped me believe that there are good people in the world. And you cared for me, or at least the part of me you thought you knew. I, um...I never thought anyone could see me that way again. Even if that's over now, I'm grateful to you. Gives me a little hope," he finished with glassy eyes.

An aching in your chest took you by surprise and you felt that longing to comfort him. There was so much tangled in your mind, though, that you still needed to sort out before acting. However, you let your hand continue to rest on his metal wrist.

Taking a deep breath, you took in the sight of the man before you. After everything he had told you, there was a shift in the air. Of course, things had changed between you, but...how much? That was the question.

You finally spoke after a moment of silence. "So...what happens now?"

"That's up to you," he answered plainly. "I can leave right now and like I said, you'll never see or hear from me again or..."

You felt a sharp pang under your ribs at the thought of never seeing him again, even after a night of startling confessions. It might be for the best, though...right? You weren't so sure.

"Or?" you urged him on, hoping for a better option.

"Or...I could come to work tomorrow. I could work with the horses, haul bales of hay, fix things, all of that. At least until you can find a replacement, if that's what you want. You don't deserve to be left to run things all on your own again. I'd keep my distance. I don't...I mean, I expect nothing. I never expected any of this. I feel so lucky to have met you, Y/N. No matter what happens, that photograph brought me to you and I will be forever grateful," he said with a quivering voice and a smile that you were finally able to mirror with one of your own for a moment.

Turning it over in your mind, you still didn't have all the answers, but came to a conclusion that gave you time to figure it all out.

"Okay. Tomorrow," you replied, hoping it was the best course of action.

James let out a genuine smile then, causing your heart to flutter unexpectedly. He still had such an affect on you, even after what he'd told you. It was all confusing now. He slowly turned his metal hand over as your fingers still rested on his wrist. The cool metal of his hand brushed the underside of your arm, sending a chill across your skin, but not an unpleasant one. You remained in that position a moment before pulling your hand away with fingertips grazing the cool steel of his palm.

You stood then and James followed, buttoning his shirt sleeve and donning his leather jacket. He slipped the glove back into place on his left hand and lingered a moment before wordlessly leaving the room. The front door close behind him and you followed after shortly, sliding the lock into place before heading to bed.

____________________

Even in the safety of your own home, you felt uneasy that night. You were a grown woman and yet being alone in a house that often felt small and now seemed echoing and cavernous was unsettling. Sleep eluded you, tossing and turning before you gave up and turned on your bedside lamp. The photo was still on the side table where you had left it so you picked it up, staring at the faces of the happy couple. You turned it over, lightly tracing over the letters of the inscription left by your grandmother.

It all seemed so... _impossible_...and yet James' story also kind of made sense. You wanted to find out for yourself, though. Tossing off the covers, you walked to your desk and turned on the computer, waiting for it to boot up. You grabbed a blanket from your bed and wrapped it around you, then taking a seat in front of the screen.

The search engine popped up as soon as you opened the icon for your browser, so you typed in the first prompt that came to mind: The Smithsonian. There was a link on the website for Captain America's exhibit and from there you found the Howling Commandos. Clicking on the photo to enlarge it, your breath caught in your throat. There he was. James. It was down the rabbit hole from there, reading and searching the internet until you crawled into bed in the early hours, exhausted.

______________________

Saturday morning broke and without Caleb or your mother to feed, you stayed in bed a little longer than normal. You began to hear familiar sounds, though: the low creak as the stable doors were opened wide and the repetitive thump as hay bales were hauled from the truck bed to the dirt beside the stables. He had come, just as he said he would. With a nervous clench of your stomach, you slipped out of bed and parted the window curtains just enough to confirm his presence.

James was back in his usual attire of well-fitting jeans and multiple layers of jackets that still couldn't hide his muscular physique. You let out a sigh and stepped away from the window to get ready for the day.

You ate a simple breakfast, stepped out onto the porch, and took a deep breath before descending the stairs down to the grass. Countless thoughts swirled around in your mind as you crossed the wide lawn toward the stables. Some of what you read last night coincided with what James had told you, but you were still struggling to reconcile the man you've known for months with who he used to be. Or might still be, you weren't sure.

Approaching the stable doors, you shivered in your jacket and peered in, finding James in front of Jasper's stall. The man was quietly stroking the horse's nose and talking softly. He definitely had the touch when it came to horses. Yet another contradiction to all you now knew about him. 

Taking a few steps toward him, he turned your way with a look of apprehension in his eyes. Had anything changed since last night? To you, everything...and yet nothing. He still looked at you with that tender expression that made you turn to jelly. However, you tried to stand your ground as you walked toward each other and met in the middle of the stables.

Clearing your throat, you spoke directly and without greeting. "Here are the training schedules for today. I'll need you to put Lightning in the trailer when his owners arrive around 11am. Also, the vet will be coming by to drain the rest of the fluid from the mass near Jasper's leg. If you could assist, that would be very helpful," you said with a professional tone, almost cold.

James' shoulder's sagged slightly at your way of speaking, but he must have expected it. He still gave a smile and nodded in compliance. "Understood. I'll take care of it," he replied in a soft voice, gently taking the papers from your hands.

Lingering a short moment, you opened your mouth to speak, but then thought against it. Turning on your heel, you walked directly out of the stables and back into the house to take care of bills and other paperwork.

The rest of the day went on in that same vein, your interactions with James strictly professional with an underlying tension. There was so much you wanted to ask, so much you needed to say, but you held back for unknown reasons.

In the late afternoon, Kevin returned to drop off Caleb. You saw his car approach and stepped out onto the porch with arms crossed over your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw James duck into the stables and out of sight.

Caleb exited the car along with his father, who got the boy's duffle out of the trunk and handed it to him with a hug. The scrawny blond scampered up the steps toward you and offered you a hug as well. Your ex, on the other hand, just raised a hand in goodbye and climbed into his car before driving back the way he came. Thank heavens. Could he possibly have listened to your words from the day before and decided to leave you alone?

James left the stables as the sound of Kevin's car faded. The brunet turned your way and you met his gaze from a distance briefly. Finally breaking eye contact, you made your way back into the house only to see Caleb running into the living room with his beloved sketch book from James. It was often the first thing he did after returning from his dad's, eager to work on a project he has spent days itching to draw. The boy would purposefully leave his drawing materials at home, since his father had often given him grief over the hobby in the past. It broke your heart that he felt like he needed to hide that side of himself around Kevin, but on the other hand, James encouraged it. Yet another item to add to your list of contradicting traits concerning the two sides of James Buchanan Barnes.

As dinner time approached, you watch from the window as James returned the horses to the stables and closed the doors. With one last look at the house, he then turned toward the road and began to walk away. Your heart squeezed at that, thinking of the dozens of times when he would have been heading your way to join you for dinner around this time. Caleb even asked if James would be coming for dinner, excited to share his new drawings. You felt a tight squeeze of your heart as you told your son about James not coming that night and seeing his hopeful expression fall about did you in.

Your mother returned from her weekend of debauchery after dinner. Regaling you with stories of her wild times, you hoped at least some of it was exaggeration. She seemed to notice the change in your demeanor, also wondering where James was that evening, but you shook it off and left the room. Caleb was in bed shortly after and you settled down with a book in the living room. Your mind didn't allow you to focus, however and after 15 minutes of trying, you gave up and headed for your mother's room.

Knocking lightly, you entered to see your mother propped up on a pillow with a book of her own in hand. She beckoned you to come in and you sat on the end of her bed. She could tell something was bothering you, so she waited until you were ready.

With a heavy sigh, you began to share what you had learned about James the night before. Your mother gasped at certain parts and felt the same anger you had at times. She let you get it all out, though, before commenting.

"Well," she said with a sigh, removing her reading glasses and setting them aside, "this is all my fault. I'm the one who hired him and shoved you toward him. I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, resting a hand on yours.

You sniffled then, surprised by the sudden flood of emotion inside you. "No, it's not your fault. He found me and I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't hired him, but I still feel like I was meant to meet him, you know? My brain can't even comprehend what he's been through and yet he still seems like such a good man, mom. How do I handle that? What do I do now?" you asked in desparation.

"I can't tell you that, honey. I think there are a lot of people in this world who deserve what happens to them because of their own choices. Many shouldn't get a second chance or the benefit of the doubt, but James might be one of those few who deserves it. If what he says is true, then it wasn't his choice. Maybe he deserves at least an honest conversation. It's up to you, though, love," she said with a pat of her hand.

Considering her words for a moment, you stood then, having made a decision. "You know, you're right. I don't think I can sit on this any longer. Will you watch over Caleb for me?"

"Of course, honey. You be careful," she urged you.

You gave her a smile. "I will. Thank you, mom. I love you."

"Love you, too, pumpkin," she said as you slipped out of the room.

Driving down the main road late at night, you very nearly missed the turn that was now overgrown with brush and weeds. Your headlights swept over the rundown Blackhurst house as you put the truck in park and climbed out. Approaching hesitantly, the weight of your footsteps cause the porch stairs to creak before you raised a hand and knocked on the screen door.

_Part 8 coming soon..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yowzah. That was a lot, right? Oof. I hope it wasn’t too heavy in details! I’ve had this all stuck in my head for months, so I’ve had plenty of time to obsess over it. What did you think of the tie-in of the reader’s grandfather? And the photograph? Kind of amazing how it brought them together. What are you theorize or why she’s knocking on his door? hmmm?? I’d love to hear your thoughts! Love you guys!! <3


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